


Ascend

by LightAndHeat



Series: Descend/Ascend [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Addiction, Angst, Bisexual Sirius Black, Book 5: Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, Discussion of the Lost Years, Drama, Fix-It of Sorts, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, Gay Remus Lupin, Gen, Getting Back Together, Hurt/Comfort, Lie Low At Lupin's (Harry Potter), M/M, Mental Health Issues, New Marauders in Golden Trio Era (Harry Potter), Not Canon Compliant - Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, Number Twelve Grimmauld Place, Order of the Phoenix (Harry Potter), Past Drug Addiction, Recovery, Remus Lupin Needs a Hug, Remus Lupin-centric, Second War with Voldemort, Sirius Black Needs a Hug, Slow Burn, Trauma, Werewolf Remus Lupin, mostly canon compliant until the end
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-27
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:55:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 33,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26676283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LightAndHeat/pseuds/LightAndHeat
Summary: 13 years ago Remus Lupin and Sirius Black lost everything. Two hopeful young lovers, torn apart piece by piece in a brutal war and the long, lonely years that followed. They slowly find their way back to each other in the midst of yet another war.Remus is all too familiar with scars, but when Sirius shows up at his door informing him that Voldemort has risen again, he realizes that some of those wounds he thought had scarred over are still wide open and bleeding.The sequel to my story Descend. Not strictly necessary to have read Descend to understand what is happening, though it would help provide context.
Relationships: Sirius Black/Remus Lupin, wolfstar - Relationship
Series: Descend/Ascend [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1941016
Comments: 68
Kudos: 85





	1. Letters from the Edge

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for giving this story a look. If you're new, welcome! If you're here after reading the first story in this two-part series, welcome back! I appreciate any and all comments. An essay, a keysmash, whatever you want to give really means a lot to me!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The letters that were sent during the year in between being reunited in the Shrieking Shack and Sirius showing up at Remus' door after the events of the Triwizard Tournament.

Dear Professor Moony,  
Good to see you the other day and share a waking nightmare for the first time in so many years. On my way to somewhere safe. One whole year with my godson. I want to know everything.  
~~Love,~~  
~~Regards,~~  
Cheers,  
Padfoot

* * *

Dear Padfoot,  
I’m not a Professor anymore. It was nice while it lasted. Even surrounded by Dementors with a mass murder on the loose, though I suppose I can hardly complain about being surrounded by Dementors and murderers to you of all people. (Is it too soon to make jokes?) The boy is every bit as wonderful as you could imagine. Bright, brilliant, thoughtful, and braver than any of us ever were. He may be the spitting image of his father, but I see so much of his mother in him it sometimes hurts to look. He’s the best of both of them and then something else entirely.  
It’s hard to know what to say. Glad you’re not a traitorous murderer. Glad you’re free. I wish it hadn’t fallen apart so quickly, but that always seems to be the way with us, doesn’t it? We’ll get that fucking rat one day. In the meantime, keep yourself safe.  
Best,  
Moony

* * *

Dear Disgraced Professor Moony,  
Found a copy of the Daily Prophet that explained your troubles and I bet I can guess who let it all out the sniveling, slimy bastard. The other day I was sat outside a café in a place I will not name and I saw a woman with bright red hair and I thought that it was her. It’s hard sometimes to know the difference between then and now as it’s all mixed up. It’s good there’s so much of her in him but of course there is, she burned so bright that even death couldn’t snuff out that fire and it had to go somewhere, didn’t it?  
Am I making sense? I’m not used to having my thoughts exist outside my own head.  
Tell me more about him.  
Cheers,  
Padfoot

* * *

Dear Padfoot,  
I understand. Or maybe I don’t, but I think I do.  
You should have seen the first time he cast a Patronus. I’ve never seen a person work harder. The determination and the skill with which he followed through was beyond what most grown wizards could accomplish. Nobody should have to deal with the things he has faced, especially not so young. I don’t know how he’s held on through it all. How he’s managed to grow into someone so wonderful. He works hard, takes nothing for granted. He loves fiercely. He is willing to fight for himself. I think that’s what I admire the most. You were like that when you were young. You had the good sense to be angry at the world when it hurt you and to put up a fight. I never was very good at that. I’m glad that he is.  
The first time he asked me for help I felt like I might break down then and there. It took all I had not to tell him everything, but I was under strict orders that I was not inclined to disobey given that I was already concealing vital information about an old friend. It was hard to look at someone so familiar and be seen as a stranger. To love him so much and not be able to say it.  
The world was falling apart for so long and it’s like the pieces are finally gluing back together.  
I hope you find a little glue for yourself, too.  
Best,  
Moony

* * *

Dear Moony,  
Only crazy glue here. I think I’m in too many pieces to ever be me again. All of those shards are lying somewhere in an empty cell and if I go back there to find them I won’t ever come out again.  
Cheers,  
Padfoot

* * *

Dear Padfoot,  
I’ve enclosed a copy of a Daily Prophet article explaining the events of the World Cup this summer. Our wise old leader has been keeping me in the loop, at least as much as he deems appropriate. Never the full picture. Nothing’s changed there.  
He was there, our boy. He’s safe now.  
Sometimes I feel like I’m not really here. Less than I used to, but it never goes away completely. I don’t think I can ever be anyone but me, though I have certainly tried. I think you'll find yourself again. It might just take some reminding, but I can help with that.  
Best,  
Moony

* * *

Dear Padfoot,  
It’s been months, still no reply. Just tell me that you’re safe.  
Best,  
Moony

* * *

Dear Moony,  
Safe. Some days almost even sane. He’s been writing me. All the chaos with the tournament that I’m sure you’ve heard about. He wants my help. I’m doing my best. I’m not going to fail a second generation of this family.  
Sorry for the long silence. I have nothing to say for myself other than I’m still remembering how to be human again.  
Cheers,  
Padfoot

* * *

Dear Padfoot,  
If there’s ever anything I can do to help, please tell me.  
Also, loving all the birds you keep sending. I hope you’re getting all the sun you looked like you so desperately needed the last time I saw you.  
Best,  
Moony

* * *

Dear Moony,  
You’re one to talk. I recall how the moonlight glinted off your grey hairs, old man.  
Cheers,  
Padfoot

* * *

Dear Padfoot,  
It’s even worse in the daylight, sadly.  
I’ve been reading the updates on the tournament. He hasn’t reached out to me. I’ve considered writing a letter of my own, but I imagine he’s got enough on his mind. I know things are getting worse for him. I know you’re as likely as ever to do something rash and dangerous.  
You do whatever needs to be done to keep him safe. Please keep yourself safe, all the same.  
Best,  
Moony

* * *

Dear Moony,  
I’m sorry for leaving it so long again. I’ve seen him. I’m well concealed, don’t worry yourself. But I’ve seen him and his friends. It’s starting to feel like the old days. Sneaking around, members of the Ministry disappearing, Snivellus being as much of a conniving prick as ever. I don’t trust him. I don’t like that he’s so close to our boy. I don’t care what the Wise Old One says, he’s got something to hide. Our boy isn’t safe around that scum. At least he has Mad Eye to look out for him.  
Why aren’t you here? Don’t you want to watch him compete?  
PS. Have you ever eaten a rat? Every time I kill one I picture His face and it makes it a little more satisfying.  
Cheers,  
Padfoot

* * *

Dear Padfoot,  
I wish I could be. It’s swarming with parents and media, and unfortunately my presence hardly lends itself to discretion on those grounds right now. Not now that they know what I am. Wise Old One doesn’t need the extra scrutiny with everything that is going on. I’d only be a distraction and all focus needs to be on protecting the boy right now, not fielding questions about why they let a monster around kids.  
I spent a year working with Snivellus. He’s much the same as ever, but he seems genuinely loyal to Wise Old One. He even helped me at times, though of course we know how all that ended. Still, I suppose we both know better than to trust without question. It can be hard to spot the rat in your midst, and sometimes it’s not who you think it is.  
Can't say I've ever eaten a rat, but I'll bet I can give you a run for your money in terms of most pathetic things done for food.  
Have you been reading the Skeeter articles? I fucking hate that woman.  
Best,  
Moony

* * *

Dear Moony,  
I’ve been alone in the dark for days. Tell me I’m not back there. Tell me you remember seeing me out in the world.  
Cheers,  
Padfoot

* * *

Dear Padfoot,  
How could I possibly forget? You were there in front of me in that shack and I’m holding your letter in my other hand as I write. I sometimes wonder if I dreamed it all myself, but in all the years that have gone by I never once dreamed that the past could be rewritten like it was when I saw you again as my friend and not my enemy. It could only be real, because I’m not enough of an optimist to imagine something so wonderful.  
Best,  
Moony

* * *

Dear Padfoot,  
It’s been a while.  
Best,  
Moony

* * *

Dear Padfoot,  
Please be safe.  
Best,  
Moony

* * *

Remus woke up with a start to the sound of a loud banging on the door of his ramshackle little cabin. Were it not for his magical reinforcements, such knocking could likely take the door off its hinges.

He rolled over and grabbed his wand, filled with an instant rush of adrenaline. Why the fuck would anybody be at his door at all, let alone in in the middle of the night? Far from the first time he'd woken up in a panic, he reacted with surprising control. He made his way quickly and quietly across the creaky floor of the tiny one bedroom home, wand held at the ready, keeping his back to the wall.

“Remus,” he heard called out from the other side of the door. “Remus it’s me.”

It took a moment for him to recognize the voice. He didn’t sound like he had when they were young, and they had only spoken so unfortunately briefly the last time they saw each other.

“Sirius?” he called back.

“Yes. Open up already.”

He closed the distance to the front door, flicking on the light as he went. When he opened the door, he felt his breath catch in his throat.

Even though he knew it was Sirius on the other side, he still couldn’t quite process the image.

He looked a little better than he had the last time, but he was still so thin. Gaunt. His skin pale and waxy. Somehow, he kept forgetting that Sirius had aged as much as he had. He always saw that handsome young man when he pictured him in his head.

His eyes seemed a little more alive than they had a year ago.

They stared at each other wordlessly for what felt like a long time. It was one thing to reunite in the heat of the moment, surrounded by chaos and the revelation of Peter’s betrayal. It was another thing to exchange coded letters, separated by many miles and only scratching the barest surface of all that lay between them.

This was something else entirely. To have him here, in his home, alone. Sirius looked just as lost as him.

After a while Remus stepped aside, letting Sirius walk into the meager living space. Sirius looked around curiously but offered no comment. He turned to face Remus, who was staring at him expectantly.

“Dumbledore sent me. He’s back, Remus. Voldemort is back.”


	2. Familiar Strangers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remus and Sirius are alone together for the first time in almost fourteen years. Neither is really prepared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From here on out it will likely be weekly updates (unless I get really enthusiastic and find a lot of free time) but I wanted to make a strong start, so here's chapter 2, nice and prompt!  
> Thank you to everyone who has already left kudos and commented!

As Sirius spoke his eyes darted around constantly. Remus’ shack was tucked away in the countryside and the sound of nature buzzed and chirped around them. Each sound seemed to draw Sirius’ attention in equal measure.

Still, even as his eyes moved, his body kept very still and steady. He did not falter in his speech that sometimes crossed into rambling, littered with tangents and non sequiturs. It took a while to get to the end, but by the time Remus had finished his second cup of tea, he had finally got the full picture of the events that had taken place as the Triwizard Tournament came to a tragic close.

Once Sirius finished, they sat a moment at the little round table that constituted Remus’ dining room and he took a moment to process the words and the horrible images that they conjured in his brain.

“Cedric was a good kid,” said Remus softly after a time. “He had every reason in the world to be arrogant, but he wasn’t. He was always kind,” he finished sadly.

“I didn’t even think about that. He was your student. Remus I’m so sorry,” said Sirius, sounding rather frustrated with himself. “Stupid, always forgetting the bits that matter.”

He stood up abruptly, placing one hand on his forehead as he paced back and forth a little.

“Sirius, it’s alright,” said Remus, concerned. “Harry’s the one who had to… I’m hardly the person you need to worry about here.”

“Do you have anything to drink?” asked Sirius, turning to Remus suddenly. 

“Water, more tea? I can do coffee, but I don’t think you need it.”

“No, I meant-”

“I know what you meant. No, I don’t have anything,” said Remus flatly.

“Oh,” responded Sirius a little awkwardly. “Good for you.”

“Surprised?” 

“No. Maybe a bit,” said Sirius, eyeing him thoughtfully.

“I’m sorry this particular hideout doesn’t offer a cocktail menu,” said Remus with a deceptive pleasantness.

"I didn't mean anything by it, Remus. I could just use something to calm my nerves a bit. That's all."

"It's fine," he said quickly. “You should try to sleep. You must be exhausted.”

Sirius shut his mouth tight, looking Remus up and down. He seemed to have more questions but accepted the dismissal for what it was. Remus got up and took out his wand, transfiguring the small sofa in the corner of the room into a passable bed. He walked into the bedroom and grabbed a spare blanket.

“It’s not much, but it should be comfortable,” said Remus as he placed the blanket on the bed.

“Well, it’s no filthy cave floor, but I’ll make do,” Sirius joked.

They stared for a moment, the air between them thick with discomfort. Things had been easy in the heat of the moment at Hogwarts. It was all adrenaline and passion and revelation. After Sirius’ comments, Remus was suddenly acutely aware of how things had been the last time they’d seen each other before the first war ended.

The first war. Because Voldemort was back now. There was going to be another war and they were going to be a part of it. Them and Harry and all those other kids who their friends had all fought, and died, to protect from ever seeing such things.

He knew it was coming. The signs had all been there for years, growing ever stronger. It didn't make it any easier to accept that it had finally happened.

“Right. Goodnight then,” said Remus, before retreating into his room and closing the door.

He didn’t sleep at all. For a while he heard some shuffling around in the living space but it eventually stopped, leaving him to lie awake with no distractions from his thoughts.

How long was this arrangement supposed to stand? The last time they had lived together it had… not ended well. Of course, that was different. They were together then. In love. Younger than they would ever be again and breaking under a pressure that in retrospect would become a simpler time they long to return to. Then he spent nearly thirteen years hating Sirius with every fiber of his being and hating himself for ever having cared for him in the first place. 

Ever since he saw Peter’s name on the Marauders Map he had been adjusting his world view, scouring through every thought and feeling of betrayal to write it all anew. Somehow it seemed easier to leave those feelings behind when Sirius wasn’t standing there in front of him, wild eyed and so unlike the man he remembered, asking him for a fucking drink. 

Fuck he could use a drink.

No. No good could come of indulging thoughts like that.

He could hardly blame Sirius for not knowing what to do or say. Remus certainly didn’t know how to proceed. And after everything Sirius had been through. He couldn’t imagine how an experience like that could change a person. It was no wonder he seemed a little erratic. He’d thought about it constantly this past year, and every time he felt his heart breaking. Twelve years in that nightmare. Nobody could come out of something like that the same as they went in. His letters had seemed to indicate as much, and they barely scratched the surface.

He felt sick to his stomach as he turned it over in his mind.

Voldemort was back. Voldemort was back and he was after Harry. Sirius was back and he was in his home. None of it felt real. Even as he lay awake, Remus was not entirely certain he wasn’t dreaming. He couldn’t tell if it was a nightmare or not.

It was early light when he heard the sound of scraping and banging coming from somewhere in the other room. He let it go on for a while until the smell of coffee finally tempted him from his swirling mess of thoughts and feelings.

“You look a wreck,” said Sirius, glancing up as he entered the room, and Remus struggled not laugh at the irony of that statement from the man who hadn't seemed to have showered for months. “Did you sleep at all?”

“I was sleeping quite well before someone showed up at my door and woke me up in middle of the night,” quipped Remus as he walked past Sirius in the kitchen to pour himself some coffee.

Sirius continued as he was before Remus entered, digging through the pantry and pulling out various food items. There were utensils and pans strewn across the bench.

“What are you doing?” asked Remus tiredly.

“Making breakfast. Don’t you have any food other than rice?” he asked.

“Sit down,” instructed Remus. “I’ll sort it.”

Sirius threw up his hands in frustration and parked himself at the dining table with a huff. Remus wandered over to the front door and disappeared outside. He returned two minutes later with two fresh tomatoes and few eggs. Sirius raised an eyebrow at him.

“You keep chickens?”

“And plants. Cuts down on cost,” he explained, heading to the kitchen and preparing the things he needed.

“What about your transformations?”

“There’s a neighbor a few miles down the road who takes them those nights. Nice old lady, doesn’t ask questions. I help her out around the house sometimes,” he said as he sliced the tomatoes and heated the fry pan.

‘How very domestic. I never would have imagined you living outside the city again after you left your dad's,” said Sirius, staring at him curiously.

Remus cracked the eggs into the sizzling pan, followed by the tomato slices. He pulled out a packet of bread from the pantry and dropped two slices into the toaster.

“It’s fairly recent. I think I like it, though. It’s quiet. Nobody bothers me.”

“Since when do you like quiet?”

“I only like some kinds,” said Remus, and he pulled out his wand and pointed it over to the corner of the room where a record player sat on a shelf. It turned on and the ethereal vocals of Jeff Buckley floated gently into the room.

Sirius sucked in a sharp breath. He listened silently, eyes closed tightly as the first song played to a close and transitioned into the titular Grace.

“I like this,” said Sirius softly, his eyes watering a little.

“Music has changed a lot since you’ve been gone,” said Remus, placing two plates of toast, tomato, and eggs onto the table before taking a seat. “It’s the one thing I’ve let myself spend on,” he said gesturing to the stack of records on the shelf next to the player. “We’ll have to catch you up."

Sirius smiled at that. A genuine, actual smile that seemed to take ten years off his face in an instant. Remus’ breath hitched a little. He looked almost like the Sirius he knew.

Sirius picked up a fork and poked at the food skeptically. Remus watched on, amused as he finally took a bite, face screwed up in anticipation of something unpleasant. As soon as the food was in his mouth, his whole face relaxed. He closed his eyes again, savoring the taste.

“What the hell happened to you, Moony? Since when can you cook?” asked Sirius incredulously.

“Had to learn. I’m not the gourmet chef my father was, but I do alright,” Remus said with a hint of pride.

“Lyall would be proud,” declared Sirius.

Remus smiled warmly at that. Sirius returned it. After a moment they both looked away, Remus clearing his throat uncomfortably. They continued to eat in silence but for the sound of the music.


	3. Linear Existence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remus and Sirius think about their history and try to figure out who they are to each other in the present.

It had been days and they had barley spoken another word to each other beyond polite small talk. Sirius looked permanently like he was about to ask a question that never came. Remus wasn’t eager to prompt conversation as he wasn’t so sure he wanted to give any answers. Sirius had rummaged through every inch of Remus’ little shack, but there was hardly anything there to elucidate anyone on his inner life. He did not keep things of sentimental value beyond his music.

That said, Sirius seemed to be having a good time slowly making his way through all the records on his shelf. He had been making his way year by year, choosing one new album a day. The collection was not comprehensive, but it was still fairly large. Remus was glad for something to fill the space between them. He was relieved to see that Sirius seemed to have held onto some sense of pleasure in life. That he was still capable of finding some kind of joy in the world.

Music had always been special to both of them. When they listened together, for a brief time, it felt like they weren’t strangers. Then the music would stop.

Remus was keeping a close eye on him, trying to get handle on his shifting moods and somewhat strange new habits he had developed since the last time they cohabited. He wanted to talk to him, he just didn’t know what to say. He knew Sirius was watching him with just as much scrutiny. It reminded him unpleasantly of the way they would walk on eggshells around each other when they were fighting in the past. Like at any moment he could say the wrong thing and spark a dramatic confrontation. Not that Sirius seemed particularly angry. Just somewhat lost.

Sometimes he would sit for hours, not moving, not speaking, almost as if he were barely there. Sometimes he would pace endlessly and fidget with everything he could get his hands on, or give himself a task. Remus’ shack had never been cleaner. 

He was spending a great deal of time with Buckbeak, who had arrived about a day after Sirius. He explained he had instructed Buckbeak to hide out until he could get word to him, which was easy enough as Sirius had become quite adept at charming non-standard delivery birds with the otherwise relatively uncooperative wand he had picked up on the run. He had wanted to make sure Remus actually had the space to stash the rather large creature, which thankfully he did. He would go out for ages in his Animagus form and laze about with the hippogriff. Buckbeak was already familiar with Remus from Hogwarts and able to hunt field mice and wild rabbits, so it was a fairly harmonious arrangement. He had also been mercifully trained by Hagrid to know the difference between wildlife and agriculture, though Remus put some wards around the chicken run just in case.

He strongly suspected Sirius had been sleeping on the floor. He never came out in the mornings until he heard movement, not wanting to startle him or disturb whatever slumber he’d managed to scrape out a non-existent sleep schedule. He had, however, noticed the blanket and pillow sitting on the wood flooring next to the bed on more than one occasion now. He knew he kept the lights on at night. He didn’t seem to like the dark anymore.

At night, he talked to himself. Or at least that’s what Remus thought at first. He tried not to listen, to respect his privacy to the point of casting silencing charms on his door when the talking started up, but after the first couple of nights he just couldn’t help himself. He was worried. He didn’t know what to do, how to understand. 

He was fed up not knowing what to say. Where to even start. Maybe Sirius could help him figure it out.

He sat with his back to his bedroom door at four in the morning, woken by the sound of Sirius’ voice. Sometimes he whispered, but this time he was quite clear. He did this sometimes, as if he didn't know how loud he was being. Remus suspected he wasn't always even sure when he was speaking. He would make odd comments and then look at Remus as if he were crazy when he responded.

Remus pressed his ear to the door. It all clicked into place when he heard Sirius say James' name. Remus felt a stab through his chest and a burning in his eyes. 

He wasn't talking to himself, he was talking to James. How often had he done this over the years?

He didn't speak about anything in particular, he just rambled on and on without breath. Describing places he’d been while on the run. Talking about the wonderful person Harry had grown into.

He apologized a lot. Silent tears ran down Remus' cheeks. Almost fourteen years, yet he still just kept apologizing. Remus understood the feeling. 

Eventually he heard his own name come up, spoken with such a heaviness that Remus could feel the weight of it even in himself.

“Prongs, you’d be so proud of him, I don’t know how he did it. A teacher. I bet he was fantastic. He’s out here in the world and somehow just seems to have pulled it all together in this little place he’s built for himself and I just feel awful because I don’t think I expected him to have changed at all, let alone for the better. He stayed the same in my head for so many years and all I saw was the worst of it again and again, but I was so fucking stupid, of course he changed! He was out here in the world and things are allowed to grow out here, not like where I was. He grows plants and- and fucking chickens! I’m glad he figured it out. How to live with himself. He could never really do that before, but there I go, underestimating him and assuming the worst and that’s exactly what got us all into this fucking mess, what got you and Lily- I’m sorry. I’m sorry, James.”

At that point, Sirius broke away on another winding tangent and Remus crawled into bed, placing a silencing charm on his door. He couldn’t stand to hear another word. He curled up and tried to take a steadying breath, but instead he felt a deep sob rising in his chest. It had been a long time since he had cried like this.

He had never talked to them. Any of them. He couldn’t bear the thought of what they might think if they could hear him. See what he'd become. He couldn’t handle imaging how ashamed they would be if they knew what he had done with the life that they had been so cruelly denied. 

The next morning started with the smell of coffee. Every morning Sirius made a pot. Remus rubbed at his eyes, feeling a deep throbbing in his head, exhausted and dehydrated, not remembering precisely when he had fallen back asleep.

Sirius was already sat at the table, a plate of toast and a cup of coffee set for Remus. He joined him, taking a long, slow sip.

“How long do you think it’ll be before we hear from Dumbledore?” asked Remus idly, making some vague attempt at starting an actual conversation.

“Eager to be rid of me?” asked Sirius, not quite succeeding at passing the comment off as a joke.

“No, not at all. It’s just the waiting, not knowing how to move forward. I’m not a fan.”

“No, me either. Better to have clear goals. It all gets mixed up otherwise,” said Sirius more to himself than anything.

“What do you mean?”

Sirius looked up, a little surprised by the question, as if he hadn’t even realized he’d said anything.

“Nothing. It’s just time moves a little funny, you know? It’s hard to tell the difference but it gets easier when there’s something immediate to grab onto. A goal,” he explained like it should all be perfectly clear.

“The difference between what?” inquired Remus, furrowing his brow.

“Between then and now. It all gets a little mixed up. Past, present, future, they were all the same thing for so long and it’s not always easy to tell if I’m remembering something or if it’s happening now. Does that make sense?” he finished a little awkwardly.

Remus thought for a moment, trying hard to mask his concern. He knew how Dementors worked. They forced you to relive your past as if it was happening to you all over again. He was familiar with flashbacks, he’d had them before, but to live like that for twelve years? Left alone with nothing but your memories and no way of knowing if it would ever end? No wonder he didn’t feel completely tethered to linear existence.

“Yeah, that makes sense.”

Sirius breathed a small sigh of relief. “It gets easier the longer I’m out. I’m getting the hang of it again, cause and effect. Glad to know I don’t sound completely mad,” he said with a laugh.

“No, only a little mad, but that’s always been true,” Remus joked back.

Sirius was quite for a moment. Thoughtful. When he spoke he seemed hesitant.

“When you walk out here every morning, for a moment I think we’re back in London. I keep expecting you to head out to the terrace for a smoke but then you go and start your day with actual food that you cook yourself and I wonder who the hell lives here. Every time I see you I’m shocked you’re not twenty, because then I remember that I’m not either and fuck do I hate that.”

“Tell me about it. I feel like I need to go out and get a leather jacket just so you look like you again. It’s a little better now you’ve showered and combed your hair. You were always so proud of those locks, it just felt wrong to see it all a mess,” said Remus lightheartedly. 

They sat in silence for a minute, though this time it was comfortable. Warm. They had actually made mention of their shared past without it being instantly horrible.

“ _Fuck_ ,” exclaimed Remus, interrupting the silence.

“What?” asked Sirius with concern.

“Now I want a smoke.”

Sirius let out a loud bark of a laugh. “Maybe you haven’t changed as much as I thought,” he teased.

“Oh shut it. I know how much you hated it.”

“I didn’t _hate_ it, I just didn’t like the smell,” said Sirius defensively.

“Are you kidding? You used to comment on it so much it was practically harassment!” Remus declared in indignation, though he couldn’t help but smile.

“Fine. I hated it. I could taste it every time we-” Sirius stopped abruptly.

The light atmosphere was instantly replaced with buzzing tension. Remus wanted to tell Sirius it was fine. When he came out that morning, he had planned to at least try and have a real conversation, but now that the topic of their former intimate relationship had been broached, he couldn’t think of a single fucking thing to say.

What the fuck were they even supposed to be to each other? Things had been so broken, so thoroughly unresolved when they had parted for the last time before the war ended. They weren’t strangers to each other, but Remus had no idea what they were. Friends? Ex's? They'd barley been broken up before everything went to hell and it was difficult for Remus to separate his feelings towards that relationship from his feelings about Sirius' would-be-betrayal. Not to mention the overwhelming guilt that encased the whole thing.

He stood up, scraping the chair a little behind him. 

“I’m going to make a run to the village,” he said quietly. “Stock up on some supplies. I’ll be back later.”

Sirius didn’t say anything as Remus headed out the front door.

He didn’t come home until the sun was already going down. He’d actually spent a little bit of that time picking up some groceries, but for the most part he had just walked. When he came back, Sirius was sat outside, leaning against a tree a few meters from the shack, watching the setting sun. Buckbeak was asleep over by the veggie patch.

Remus dropped the bag of groceries by the front door and walked over to him. Sirius watched as he sat down beside him, pulling up his knees and resting his arms on them.

“Dumbledore probably wouldn’t like you being outside in human form,” he said softly.

“Dumbledore can shove off. This place must be warded to hell and back to accommodate your transformations. You always did have a talent for defensive magic.”

They were quiet for a beat before Remus took a deep breath, running over the words he’d been rehearsing the past few hours.

“I shouldn’t have walked away,” he said, prompting Sirius to glance over at him. “I just needed some time to think.”

“About what?” asked Sirius, sounding very tired.

“About us. I feel like if I even acknowledge it out loud, that there ever was an 'us,' it’s going to create some great, unbearable burden of expectation or obligation or… I honestly don’t know. I have no idea. It just feels taboo somehow, like it would shatter the relief of having you back in my life, which is hard to reconcile considering..." he trailed off, still not quite able to break the imaginary taboo and say what they had been to each other.

"Considering that we used to fuck?" Sirius prompted bluntly.

"Considering that we used to be in love. Considering how it ended," said Remus softly.

"After you fucked someone else, you mean?" asked Sirius, though he didn't sound angry as his words would seem to indicate.

Remus looked down at his hands a moment. "Yeah." A beat. "The way we left things was just so awful. I don’t want to bring all that pain and resentment back up, but I don’t think we can keep pretending it isn’t there. I’d like to be friends again, if that’s possible.”

Remus looked over to Sirius, who was watching him intently. 

“I want that too,” he said eventually. “I know I was angry at the end. And the beginning and the middle, I suppose. It got all twisted in my head. I have a little more perspective than I did back then. I had a lot of time to think about it,” he said bitterly. “I don’t see things the same way anymore.”

“You had every right to be angry. I… I understand why you thought I could be the traitor. I’d already betrayed your trust, more than once-”

“Stop that. Remus, I was paranoid. Afraid. I had no right to think you could be the spy because you would never, ever be capable of something like that and I knew you well enough that I should have seen it. Out of all the people in the world, I should have seen...”

"I could say the same. I should have known it wasn't you. I should have known, Peter and everything that happened, I- I never understood how you could have done that, but I trusted everyone else when I should have trusted my instincts. Should have trusted you. In the end all I could do was stop thinking about it and accept that it would never make sense to me. Accept I'd never really known you at all" he said, voice dripping with such sincere regret. "I'm so glad I was wrong."

Sirius didn't know how much he'd needed Remus to say that until the moment that he did. "We both made a lot of mistakes. It all seems so small compared to what happened after, even though it felt like the end of the world at the time. If I'd known what I do now you probably could've fucked every man in England and I wouldn't have thought it a big deal," Sirius joked. 

“It was Wales, actually.”

“Excuse me?”

“You said every man in England, but it was Wales.” said Remus completely deadpan. 

“You cheated on me with a Welshman?” asked Sirius indignantly. “Connecting with your cultural heritage, were you?”

“No, the location was Wales. The man was Australian.”

They stared at each other for a moment before Sirius burst out laughing. Remus followed suit quickly. 

“Oh, well that’s okay then,” said Sirius, still chuckling a little.

There was another silent beat.

“I am sorry, you know. I never wanted to hurt you,” said Remus sadly. "I was such a mess back then. I knew what I was doing and I did it anyway. You didn't deserve that."

“It's not like I never hurt you back. It wasn’t all bad, though. We loved each other a long time, and I don’t just mean when we were together. When I saw you in the Shrieking Shack I wasn’t thinking ‘funny running into my ex-boyfriend here.’ I was thinking that I had spent so many years dreaming of the family that I lost and now that you’re with me, I finally have some part of it back,” said Sirius, meeting Remus' gaze.

Remus nodded, feeling a lump rising in his throat. “I felt the same thing.”

They sat together in silence until the sun had fully retreated and a blanket of stars took its place. After a long time, Remus reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. There were already two smokes missing from his earlier walk. Sirius sighed with mock exasperation.

"Don't give me that. It's your fault for mentioning it," said Remus as he lit up. "It'll only be the one pack then I'm done. Too bloody expensive to keep up these days anyway."

"Moony, after the places I've been, the smell is practically roses. I think I'll cope."

"Thanks for the seal of approval, Pads."


	4. Need to Know

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A lot of years have passed and Sirius wants to fill in some of the gaps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is genuinely shocking that I got a chapter done this week because my life is total chaos at the moment. Hope you like it! Would love to hear any feedback or feelings if you have 'em.

“Pads, you’re getting it everywhere!”

“I’m doing it exactly how you showed me!” exclaimed Sirius as he raised his hands to his eyes to shield them from the cloud of flour he had just kicked up.

Remus grabbed the beater from his hand, switching it off. He started laughing as the chaos settled to reveal Sirius with a face full of powder and white staining his shirt. 

“This is why I never wanted to live in the country, Moony! Can’t get any bloody takeout. Have to do everything for ourselves,” he grumbled, brushing off his clothes.

“Why don’t you leave this to me. Go back to your little craft project,” teased Remus.

“Craft project?” said Sirius indignantly. “I’m fixing your leaky roof! How you live like this is beyond me.”

“Up until a few weeks ago you lived in a fucking cave!” exclaimed Remus.

“And I kept it very nice I’ll have you know,” said Sirius.

Remus rolled his eyes affectionately. “I’m rubbish with those domestic spells, you know that. Why do you think all my clothes are in such shit condition?”

Sirius rolled his eyes back. “Have you ever considered using your actual hands? You learned how to bake, a revelation I’m yet to recover from, by the way. You couldn’t learn how to use a hammer?”

“I was getting to it,” said Remus sheepishly. “I’m still fairly new at this whole thing, really. I mean, dad tried to teach me, but I just never took to it. Not like you did. Besides, compared to some of the places I’ve lived this is a luxury,” he added with a slight grimace.

Sirius stilled at that. Remus had talked a lot about his year at Hogwarts since they had reunited. Told him everything about his time with Harry, and when he ran out of those stories, he moved onto all his other students. Sirius had been struck by how much he seemed to genuinely care about them all. He remembered little details, made connections. He didn’t say it himself, but Sirius got the impression that the students had been quite fond of him. Why else would so many of them have sought him out for help and advice?

They had even talked a little bit about their time before the end of the last war. A little. Not a lot. 

He never talked about the years in between. Any time Sirius so much as hinted at asking, Remus would find a way to cheerily and swiftly change the topic.

“What other places?” Sirius asked casually, trying very hard to sound like he wasn’t fascinated to hear the answer.

Remus, who had taken over Sirius’ mixing of the cake batter, stiffened slightly at the question.

“What do you mean?” he asked pleasantly.

“What other places have you lived? You said you haven’t been here long,” said Sirius, moving over to sit at the table nonchalantly

“Oh, well I moved here after Hogwarts,” said Remus, still pleasant even as his grip tightened on the mixer. “I didn’t have many expenses that year and the salary was quite good. Land is cheap out here so I managed to buy it outright.”

Remus stopped mixing and moved to pour the batter into the prepared baking pan. He felt Sirius’ eyes on him. 

So far they had both largely refrained from pushing each other on the past. Sirius mentioned his time in Azkaban sometimes, but Remus never pressured him to say more about it than he wanted. He simply listened. Tried to help him through his mood swings and his bad days, when he seemed to be almost entirely untethered from his sense of time and place. Sirius had seemed fairly willing to oblige Remus’ desire to keep the past in the past, though he suspected that this wouldn’t last forever. Sirius was a curious man, and not always a patient one.

“Alright. But what about before Hogwarts? Were you in London still?” asked Sirius, a little more insistently this time.

“Sure, for a bit. Did you still want to fix the roof, then, or do you want to find something else to do today?” he asked with a tight smile.

“It’s not really fair, is it,” said Sirius offhandedly. “I was really only doing the one thing for twelve years and you know exactly what it was. Why do you get to shroud your life in mystery?”

There was no bitterness behind the words, just the emptiness that Sirius always felt when he dwelled too long on all the lives that people got to live while he rotted in a cell. The slightly sickening knowledge that the world continued on without him.

Remus’ face fell. He stopped in place, not able to find words. It was only at that moment that Sirius realized he had voiced that last thought out loud. He was so used to being alone he sometimes didn’t register the difference between his thoughts and his words.

“Sorry,” he said quickly. “I didn’t mean to say that.”

Remus hesitated a second before walking over to the table and sitting across from Sirius. He fidgeted awkwardly but met Sirius’ gaze straight on.

“You’re right. It’s not fair-” “Remus, it’s fine-” “Sirius, please, it’s alright.” Remus took a breath. “I couldn’t stay in London after what happened, so I headed to Scotland. Lived in Edinburgh for about two years before I got sick of it. After that I just left the UK entirely until I was twenty-nine. I never really stayed anywhere longer than a year. Mostly around Western and Southern Europe, but I spent about six months in New York,” he said with a small, almost apologetic smile. 

Sirius had always wanted to go to New York. So much of the music they both loved came out of that city.

“Why did you come back?” 

Remus spoke slowly, as if he was carefully considering every word. As if each sentence were an unpleasant task to be performed.

“I spent a long time trying to get away from everything that happened in England. Eventually I got a bit sick of running. It was exhausting. I figured if I wanted to deal with it I had to, well, actually deal with it. It… didn’t go as well as I’d hoped,” he said softly, his left hand drifting across his right forearm almost subconsciously, a movement that Sirius caught and filed away for later. “Not at first. I sort of figured it out eventually. Realized I needed to get away from the city. Somewhere quiet, isolated. At least for a while. So that’s what I did. I was out around Somerset when Dumbledore came knocking and offered me a job. Now I own this place. It’s nice to know that even if times get tough at least I can’t be evicted,” he finished with a small laugh.

Sirius felt that there was an awful lot that was glossed over in that little rundown of events. He couldn’t help feeling a pang of jealousy. 

Remus got to travel. To explore. To avoid his bad memories and deal with them at a time of his choosing rather than live every moment in them for twelve fucking years. He got to grow, to live.

Is that why he was so avoidant? He didn’t want to upset Sirius. Didn’t want to rub it in his face, everything he’d missed.

“Sounds like you’ve had an interesting life,” Sirius commented quietly. 

Remus smiled a little uncomfortably. “I suppose you could say that.” 

They were silent for a moment. Sirius debated pushing, but truthfully, he didn’t think he could stand to hear anymore.

“Are you going to finish that cake or are we just going to starve, then?” Sirius joked with a short laugh that sounded rather insincere. 

Remus nodded, looking putt off as he stood up, making his way over to the tiny kitchen. Sirius watched him work. His leg was bouncing up and down at an increasingly rapid pace. His head was starting to feel light as it buzzed with a thousand thoughts and images. 

What else had he missed? What else had Remus seen and done and lived, fucking _lived_ while Sirius had been locked away? While Harry had been locked away with those awful people? 

No. He shook away that thought, not for the first time. That was Dumbledore’s fault. It was Dumbledore who put him there, left him there. Who left Sirius in prison without so much as a trial while Remus got to traipse around the world and learn all sorts of new skills and be happy.

He wouldn’t talk about his life because he pitied him, just like everyone else. Like Dumbledore, like the others he had gone to see before coming here. 

Sirius pushed the table forward violently as he stood up, causing an empty mug on the table to fall and shatter on the ground. He was breathing heavily. Remus spun around to face him, wide eyed with shock and, much to Sirius’ disgust, concern. 

They stared at each other a moment, Sirius’ fists balled by his side. He turned away and headed straight for the front door.

Remus stepped around the kitchen bench, trying to follow.

“Sirius! What are you doing?” he called out in confusion.

“Going for a walk,” he said as he yanked the door open.

“Off the property? I don’t think-”

Sirius rounded on him. “I've been on the run for two years, you think I can’t handle myself? I’ll transform, I’m not completely fucking inept!”

Remus raised his hands in a placating gesture. He stepped back, recognizing that Sirius was going to do whatever he wanted right now. Sirius left in a flurry, slamming the door closed behind him. As soon as he hit the property line, he took the form of Padfoot and headed off down the country road at a sprint.

By the time he came back, Remus was working anxiously in the garden, not paying any attention to the task at hand. He had been making his way steadily through his cigarettes and was, much to his frustration, down to the final one in the pack. He was alerted to Sirius’ presence before he could see him as Buckbeak stood up from where he lay lazily on the ground and excitedly trotted up to greet Sirius.

Remus watched as the black dog approached, transforming back into his old friend. Sirius stroked Buckbeak’s beak in greeting. Remus was glad. He was about an hour away from going out to search for him. 

After a moment, he looked over to Remus. Much to his surprise, Sirius smiled apologetically at him. He wandered over, seemingly much calmer than when he’d left. Remus stood up, throwing down his gardening tools and dropping his smoke, which he ground out with his shoe.

“Sorry about that,” Sirius said as he approached. “Didn’t mean to freak out on you.”

“Don’t mention it,” Remus replied, relieved that they apparently weren’t fighting.

Remus thought for a moment that Sirius was about to offer some further explanation or continue his previous line of questioning about Remus’ past. Instead he just offered another smile and headed back towards the shack.

Buckbeak curled back up in his position in the shade, returning to his rest. Remus knelt back down to continue his gardening, glad to have a distraction from the mess of thoughts swimming around his head.


	5. Assumptions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sirius wants to talk. Remus doesn't. Everything and nothing had changed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo, really late chapter! I'm sorry I fell a bit behind. Moving house is a crazy and stressful thing to do.  
> To make up for the lack of updates, I will be posting another chapter tomorrow too! After that it should be back to regular weekly updates.

“I just wish Dumbledore would reach out already. The tension is fucking killing me,” said Sirius, pacing back and forth across the small room. “He hasn’t changed a bit. Keeping us all in the dark, little pawns who are never allowed to see the whole board.”

“Will you sit down, Sirius? I’m getting anxious just watching you,” said Remus tiredly from where he lay slumped back into the ragged little couch.

Remus rubbed at his forehead as if staving off a headache. Sirius had been on edge all day. He was going on and on about increasingly dire hypotheticals to explain the lack of contact from the Order. He couldn’t seem to sit still for more than a minute before he would be up and pacing again.

Remus could feel the migraine setting in. He wasn’t as young as he had once been and the days leading up to his transformations had become increasingly exhausting over the years. Sirius was about to start off on another tangent when he caught the pained look on Remus’ face.

“Fine,” he huffed, grabbing a chair from the dining table and swinging it around to face the couch. He sat down quietly for a second. Only for a second. “You can’t tell me you’re not going crazy here.”

“I want to get answers just as much as you, Pads, but there’s no point getting worked up about it.”

“It's not like I have any distractions here. I could really use a fucking drink or six. All these years, Moony, I don’t know how you kept it up. I certainly wouldn’t have had your self-restraint,” Sirius said flippantly.

Remus gave him a funny look. Sirius had been making a lot of little comments like that over the past few days. He seemed to have come to some conclusions about the way Remus had spent those twelve years Sirius had been locked up. Remus did not feel compelled to correct his assumptions.

“Well just head down to the pub then. Take Buckbeak with you in case you think being the countries most recognizable mass murderer isn't quite conspicuous enough,” said Remus sarcastically.

“Fine. Whatever,” Sirius conceded. “So, what do you usually do around here when you’re not harboring fugitives? Surely your life isn't this boring."

“Excuse me?”

“You want me to shut up about the war, then let’s talk about something else. Come on, this can’t have been all you did with your time before I showed up.”

Remus sighed, sitting up slightly. Sirius had been laying off of the questions a bit, apparently trying to keep the peace after his little episode the other day. Clearly, he was no longer in such a diplomatic mood. Remus could tell he was getting frustrated with his lack of forthcoming answers, but he couldn’t help it. Sirius wanted to hear about the life he imagined Remus had been living. He didn’t want to hear the truth. 

“What is it you believe I do with my time?” asked Remus with a raised brow.

“I don’t know, Mr Cryptic. Fourteen years and you never made a friend? You don’t go out? You traveled the world and you want me to believe that you spend all your time, what, gardening?” Sirius sighed. When he spoke again his tone was calmer, more sincere. “Come on, you have a life outside of this bubble. Tell me about it.”

“It’s really not that interesting. Sometimes I do odd jobs helping people in the community. I like going to the farmers’ market. I don’t really do a lot of socializing these days.”

“You don’t socialize? You? The same man who couldn’t go one night alone without having a meltdown?” said Sirius with an incredulous laugh, not paying attention as Remus demeanor grew awkward. “Since when do you like being alone?”

“What can I say, people change,” he said uncomfortably.

Sirius rolled his eyes. “So all these years, hopping from country to country, living your life, and you just never had friends?” he asked disbelievingly.

“No,” Remus conceded, trying to be sympathetic to Sirius’ frustration. “I had friends, I suppose. People who came and went over the years. Nobody I talk to these days.”

Sirius paused a moment. “What about relationships? I never had any myself given that pretty much everyone in prison was either my cousin or catatonic. Bit of a turn off, you know?” he deadpanned.

Remus looked down at his hands, fighting a wave of nausea. “Sirius, please-”

Sirius laughed, though it sounded distinctly devoid of humor. “Relax, Moony. I didn’t assume you were celibate. I certainly wouldn’t have been if I’d had any choice in the matter. And for a catch like you, Professor Lupin,” he said with a wink, “they must have been lining up around the block.”

Remus smiled indulgently. “Funnily enough, I had other things on my mind during my year as a professor. There was a killer on the loose, you know,” he said, trying to lighten the mood.

Sirius was staring again. Underneath the frantic energy and wide eyes he looked almost wistful. Remus clasped his hands together in front of him to stop himself from fidgeting.

“You don’t have to hide it,” said Sirius bitterly. “I know that you’re trying to keep it from me. The fact that everyone else kept living while I was stuck in that cell, but I know that life went on without me. I won’t be hurt by the fact that you had friends. Relationships. That you lived your fucking life. You’re keeping things from me because you think I’m too fragile," he said with increasing paranoia. "You didn’t owe me anything. We weren’t even together at the end, not that it stopped you when we were,” he spat.

As soon as he said it, Sirius wanted to take it back. Remus felt ice run down his spine. They had only spoken the once about Remus' past infidelity, the thing that had destroyed what was left of their relationship. Sirius had given the impression that he had let those old wounds go and Remus desperately wanted to believe it was true. Clearly that wasn’t the case.

Sirius leaned back, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. He looked up at Remus’ blank, impassive face.

“I didn’t mean that.” 

“Forget it. Doesn’t matter,” muttered Remus.

Sirius studied his face a moment, desperately searching for a crack in the wall Remus had erected around himself. He found nothing. The man wouldn't even defend himself. Sirius stood up and began pacing again.

“I just don’t get it. You’ve lived this whole life, become this whole new person. Do you think I’m jealous? I’m glad things were better for you. That you got your shit together after everything that happened. I know I wouldn’t have if I was in your shoes. Not you though. You- fuck, Remi, you cook! You live alone! You were a teacher. You don’t have to hide it all from me. I’m not that weak,” Sirius finished in frustration.

“What is it that you think?" asked Remus, unable to restrain himself any longer. He didn't want to upset Sirius. He knew how much he was struggling, but there was only so much accusation and insecurity he could take. "You think that all this time I’ve been productive and sober and traveling the world having whirlwind romances? Now I’m just trying not to rub it in your face? Saving all my pity for poor little Sirius, the only one who lost anything?” asked Remus incredulously.

“I wouldn’t know! You refuse to talk about it! All I know is that after everything, you got better and I just got worse!” exclaimed Sirius, eyes burning. “You went off and lived your life while I was in that cell and Harry was in that fucking house and where were you? You were the last person left to love him and where the fuck were you? Did you even try to look after him?”

Remus’ breath caught in his throat as so many years of pain began to well up in Sirius’ eyes and spill over as tears. Sirius stilled. For a moment the room was completely silent. Sirius had not expected to say that any more than Remus had expected to hear it. Now that the words were out, though, he was glad.

The thought had crawled its way into his mind more than once. Where the fuck had Remus been that was worth leaving James and Lily's son behind while Sirius sat powerless in Azkaban?

“How can you even say that?” whispered Remus. “Of course I tried,” he said, standing up and stepping towards Sirius. “I begged Dumbledore to let me take him. You think anyone was going to let me have a baby? I had no legal rights. I wasn’t family. I wasn’t the Godfather. Even if I was, you think anyone is going to award custody to a werewolf?”

“There could have been a way to make it work. It’s one night a month. Dumbledore could have made it work. You could have convinced him!” Sirius accused.

“You mean _you_ could have. If it had been you who was free, you could have kept Harry safe. That’s what’s killing you, isn’t it? That I’m the one who was left and you think I just fucked off and forgot about it all. About Harry. About you. Do you think I didn’t want to look after him? I couldn’t even look after myself, and everyone knew it! Nobody in their right mind would have entrusted me with a fucking baby.”

“Don’t give me excuses. He entrusted you with an entire school of kids!”

“It’s different! I’m not the same as I used to be. I don’t even know why I have to tell you this! You knew me back then. You knew what I was like. You think that all just went away? Even you could barely stand me most of the time because I was such a fucking mess!”

Sirius shook his head, waving his hand dismissively. “Sure you were fucked up. We were all fucked up, it was a war! You’re obviously got over it. Even before the end, you were clean, you were getting better. You could have done it if it’s what you really wanted,” he finished with such certainty.

Remus tilted his head, meeting Sirius eyes with a scrutinizing stare. Every new word hit like a punch in the chest. Every accusation that Sirius hurled at him an echo of the thoughts and fears that had haunted him through so many years. Thoughts that had almost broken him all over again when he finally met Harry and understood what he had been left to. What if he had only fought harder? Been better? What if he had protected Harry? What if, what if, what if...

He'd been working hard the last few years to understand that he had done what he could. That ultimately, Dumbledore had his own plans and he never would have given in to Remus, regardless of what state he'd been in. It tore him apart to know that Sirius thought he'd failed in all the ways he feared the most.

“I’m sorry,” said Remus eventually. “If I could go back and trade places with you, I’d do it in a heartbeat. You deserved to be free. You would have done so much more with it than I ever did. It would have been worth something. I wish I could give that to you. To Harry,” he finished mournfully.

All of that frantic energy seemed to drain out of Sirius at once as a new, more desperate silence swept the room. Remus stood still for only a moment before he averted his gaze, striding past Sirius to his bedroom.

Sirius watched him go as a fog of shame descended upon him. Stupid. Stupid fucking idiot. Never knowing when to shut up or what to do. He only wanted to make Remus talk, he thought as the door clicked closed, leaving him alone in the lounge. He only wanted to talk. How could he have so little control? It was pathetic. No wonder Remus felt the need to protect him. No wonder he felt the need to handle him with kid gloves.

He hadn't meant it. Not really. It was just so hard to separate his fears from reality. So hard to tell the difference between a thought and a truth, especially when he was upset. He'd apologize later. He'd make it up to Remus. He wasn't about to drive away the only friend he had left.


	6. Corrections

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remus and Sirius have a talk in the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for discussions of attempted suicide. Only discussions, not depictions. Look after yourself.

Sirius awoke with a start. Cold sweat dripped down his back. A shiver crawled outward in from the surface of his skin down into his aching marrow.

Yelling. He could hear yelling. Must be Lestrange again, desperately hoping his monster of a wife would hear him from whatever corner she was rotting in. Maybe that… thing that lived two cells down, he never learned who that used to be. It had been there since before he arrived and the only thing it ever managed to do was howl and whimper into the dark.

Dark. No. It wasn’t dark. There was gentle yellow coming from the bulb above him, set into a cracked, water damaged roof.

He sat up, breathing heavy. The yelling was more of a moaning now.

He looked around, feeling his skin prickling, an electric buzz in the air.

The ground was hard beneath him, but it was not cold nor rough like stone. Wood, he realized as he felt it beneath his fingers. He stared at the bed next to him. It was soft. Too soft. Softer than he’d slept in for so many years.

It hit him like a bucket of ice. Remus! This was Remus’ home. Which meant those sounds of distress were coming from Remus’ bedroom.

He was up in a flash. His hand slammed against Remus’ door as he called out his name, imagining what bloody sight lay on the other side. The bodies of old friends danced behind his eyes among piles of rubble. Danger! screamed every bright instinct that burned in his body.

There was no response and Sirius was already opening the door.

It was quiet, but for Remus’ now soft whimpering. He had not heard this sound for so long, but it rang in his ears like reveille, an oh so familiar wake up call from a past he could never go back to. 

Sirius breathed deeply and jaggedly. His friend (only surviving friend) was asleep. There was no danger but for what lived in Remus’ nightmares.

Sirius stumbled forward in the dark, channeling his energy into sharp focus on the man in front of him. He dropped to his knees, reaching a hand towards Remus’ shoulder before thinking better of it, pulling it away before there could be any touch.

“Remus!” he called firmly. “Remus, wake up! You’re only dreaming.”

He seemed to sooth slightly at the sound of his voice. He was tangled in his sheets, his skin damp and soaking through his thin pajamas. Sirius clapped his hands loudly above Remus, hoping to shock him the rest of the way from sleep. 

In one swift movement Remus shot up and reached his arm over to his bedside table where his wand lay. He shuffled back on the bed and swung around to face Sirius, wild eyed and trembling all over. Sirius threw his hands up defensively as he stared down the tip of Remus wand, inches from his face.

“It’s me, Moony! It’s only me,” declared Sirius.

Remus lowered his wand slowly, only able to see Sirius by the light that poured in through the doorway from the other room. He seemed to be becoming more aware of his surroundings.

“What are you doing?” Remus gasped out, eyes darting between Sirius and the door.

“I heard yelling, so I- I just- Only it was just a nightmare. You were having a nightmare,” he tried to explain.

Remus closed his eyes a moment, his body relaxing slightly as he evened out his breathing. He nodded, though Sirius didn’t know if it was to him or simply to reassure himself.

“Alright,” Remus said eventually, swinging his legs over the end of the bed and planting his feet on the floor. “If we’re both up, why not some tea?” he suggested, getting up and heading for the kitchen before Sirius had even risen from where he knelt beside the bed.

He stared out the door a moment. Tea. Sure. Why not? He stood and followed.

He sat at the table as Remus busied himself with the kettle. His hair was a mess, his sleep clothes loose and wrinkled, filled with holes like everything else he owned only these he had not bothered to patch up. They were not as nice as the ones he’d given Sirius to use. It felt oddly intimate to see him in such a state. His day wear seemed to consist of nothing outside of knit jumpers and comfortable work pants. 

“Sorry for waking you,” said Remus calmly, glancing over his shoulder at Sirius.

“Don’t worry about it.” A beat. “What I said earlier-” “It’s alright-” “No, it’s not. Sometimes I think I’m properly mad now, you know? I just get things in my head and... It’s not fair to you,” he said softly.

Remus just offered a small, reassuring smile as he continued to tend to the tea. Sirius looked for resentment, but he couldn’t find it. He couldn’t find much of anything behind the quiet pleasantness. Always a sure sign he wanted to move on from something uncomfortable. 

As much as he had changed, there were some ways in which he was very much the same man Sirius remembered.

“Is it the moon? The nightmares, I mean,” asked Sirius. 

He remembered the nightmares Remus used to have in the week leading up to the full moon. It had been an issue as long as he’d known him.

“The moon. The whole Voldemort being back from the dead thing,” he said with a quirk of his brow. “I think there’s a number of factors, but no mind, I’m awake now.”

A moment later Sirius had a cup placed in front of him and Remus sat across from him. He looked exhausted. As calm as he seemed now, there was a sort of discomfort behind his eyes. Remus sipped at his tea. He closed his eyes, focusing on the heat of it. Sirius watched him curiously, caught off guard by how quickly he had composed himself.

When they had lived together during the war, when his panic attacks had been at their worst, Remus would be agitated the whole night after a nightmare. He would toss and turn, eventually giving up entirely and leaving Sirius alone in bed. He was always calmer and steadier by the time Sirius came out in the morning. Of course, he eventually learned that the means by which he quelled the panic had not always been the healthiest.

Remus’ hands still shook ever so slightly, drawing Sirius’s attention. Goosebumps stood up on his arms, no wonder with the short sleeves and flimsy material in the cool night.

Then Sirius noticed it. He hadn’t registered it at first. It had been dark in the bedroom, too dark to make out fine details. He felt a deep, encompassing chill as his eyes caught on Remus’ scars.

Remus of course had a great deal of scars. Sirius had spotted at least a few across his neck and face that were not part of the map he had memorized so many years ago. However, until now he had only seen Remus completely covered up.

He knew what transformation scars looked like. They were ragged things from skin that was ripped and torn. These were long, thin, neat lines that ran most of the length of Remus’ left forearm and about half of his other. They were bright white, clearly long since healed, though not as faded as some of the others that intersected them. His arms in general looked a mess, dotted with small, discolored scars along the inside of his forearms and elbows, though Sirius was hardly paying attention to those. 

Sirius had seen scars like that before. There had been inmates who had tried to leave Azkaban that way and failed. Well, maybe some had succeeded, but Sirius had no doubt that information of that nature would be concealed from inmates at all costs. After all, Dementors don’t feed off hope, nor death, and those two concepts were often interchangeable in that place.

It wasn’t until Remus folded his arms across his chest that Sirius snapped out of it enough to realize Remus was staring right back at him. He glanced away, letting out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding. 

He picked up his tea and took a long sip, not wanting to make Remus uncomfortable. He already looked self-conscious enough, arms crossed tightly, leaning back in his seat. He seemed almost embarrassed. Remus stood up, walking over to where his coat hung by the front door. He pulled it on before coming to sit down again, not quite looking at Sirius.

“I didn’t mean to stare,” Sirius said quietly.

“It’s fine,” said Remus as he stared down at the table. “A foolish moment, years ago now. It’s less dramatic than it looks,” he said, glancing up at Sirius with a tight smile.

Suddenly Sirius and Remus were sitting together on the rooftop of their old apartment building. They were sat on a ledge. Remus was struggling to remain conscious. He lurched forward violently, and Sirius called out his name, reaching his arm out to steady him. He grabbed Remus’ shoulder in a vice grip.

“Moony! Hey, look at me! What did you take?” he asked urgently.

Remus was staring back at him with wide eyes. Eyes that were bright and alert, not glassy like they had been a second ago.

“Nothing! Sirius, what are you talking about?” asked Remus in alarm.

Sirius blinked very hard. They weren’t on the roof anymore, they were in Remus’ home and he was, for the second time that night, not in the danger Sirius imagined. He yanked his hand back from where he had been grasping Remus’ shoulder. He clenched his fists tightly on the table in front of him.

“Sorry,” he said a little breathlessly.

“It’s alright,” said Remus gently, and Sirius couldn’t stand the concern in his eyes even though he had been giving Remus the very same look just moments ago. “You’re getting mixed up again, aren’t you? It’s worse when you’re tired. I shouldn’t have suggested tea, you should get some sleep.”

“I’m not a child,” snapped Sirius.

“I know,” said Remus, taken aback. 

They sat in an uncomfortable silence for a few moments before Sirius let out a deep sigh. He leaned back in his chair looking beyond exhausted.

“You’re right. It’s worse when I’m tired. Sometimes I just lose track. I thought…” he trailed off as the memory replayed, though this time he was able to keep his distance.

“You thought what?” asked Remus hesitantly. 

“We were in London. On the roof of our building. I found you up there, on the ledge,” he said almost at a whisper. “I thought you were better now. You seem so much better.”

Remus folded his arms across his chest again even though they were now covered. He was tapping his foot on the ground and while he didn’t look away from Sirius, it was clearly an effort for him.

“I… I haven’t thought about that night in a long time,” he said. “I don’t really remember that part. With everything that happened after... I suppose it always seemed inconsequential in the grand scheme of things.”

"You tried to kill yourself, Remus, of course it wasn't inconsequential," said Sirius, breath hitching as he spoke.

Remus looked down at the table. "You're right. It's not."

"You always said you didn't remember what happened on the roof that night. I never really knew if I believed you."

"A dozen sleeping pills and a bottle of Firewhisky aren't conducive to good memory," said Remus with a tight, bitter smile.

"I remember every detail." Sirius looked at him. Really looked. How could he have thought that after everything that happened Remus had just been okay? "Remi, what the fuck happened? How could you do something like that again?" Sirius asked, and it wasn't an accusation so much as a plea.

Remus was very quite. He was quiet for so long that Sirius thought he wasn't going to answer. That he'd just hit another dead end.

“I know you think I don’t talk about my past for your sake," said Remus abruptly. "It's not pity, Sirius. I'm not trying to protect you from anything. Truth is, I just don’t want you to know how much I wasted what was taken from you. What was taken from James and Lily and all the rest. You want to know why I moved so much? Because one day I lost everyone I ever loved all at once and after that it just seemed easier to go to a new city, a new country, than to stay and risk loving someone like that again. I didn’t date. I didn't have relationships. I fell into bed with whoever would let me sleep there afterwards because sometimes I had nowhere else to go. Do you really want to hear these things? The shit that I did to survive?” Remus said, voice breaking. “I just fell apart. I fucked it all up. The worst you ever saw of me during the last war doesn’t even compare.”

Sirius just watched, struggling to process everything he was hearing. He’d shown up with so many assumptions based on memories he was only now realizing he half remembered. Remus just seemed so… fine. He seemed like he’d gotten his life together. Like maybe Sirius had been right all those years ago and his problems were just something he just needed some time to get over and it really wasn’t all that bad. His scars seemed to tell another tale but he couldn’t figure out what. Sirius could not form a clear image in his mind that reconciled the young man he had known who had always seemed to exist on a knifes edge with the grounded, world weary man in front of him.

He felt left behind. 

They had been young and passionate and falling apart together. Now it felt like Sirius had only lost more of himself while Remus had done the opposite. He just wanted to fill in the blanks. To understand.

"I want to hear all of it," whispered Sirius.

Remus hesitated a moment before reaching down to the sleeve covering his right arm. He rolled up the cuff slightly, careful to place his hand in a way that covered the larger scarring as he revealed his wrist, where one of those odd, discolored little scars sat.

“They’re from needles,” he admitted ashamedly. 

Sirius looked on in confusion as Remus quickly covered back up. He knew what needles were. He had muggle tattoos. It took a moment for it all to click into place.

He’d talked to Lily about it when they had been nursing Remus through withdrawal. She showed him one of her books, explained that some muggles took these drugs directly into their blood stream. She’d told him how relieved she’d been that Remus wasn’t doing something so dangerous.

“I thought you didn’t do that,” said Sirius.

“I didn’t back then. Things changed. I didn't spend those twelve years before Hogwarts clean and sober, Sirius. I was fucked up for a really long time. Maybe if they’d let me have Harry it would have been different. I could have found a way to pull it together. I wish I could have had the chance to try. But then again, maybe it wouldn't have changed anything. Can’t say I blame anyone for not wanting to take the risk,” he said sadly. 

Sirius could feel the grief radiating off him. It was pouring into his veins. Everything they had both lost. Everything they never had the chance to find.

“Heroin?” he inquired.

Remus nodded. 

Sirius leaned back in his chair, taking it in. He never really understood Remus’ addiction. He knew it was bad when they were young, but when he’d showed up and Remus was sober, he just assumed it had been for the duration. In retrospect, he had no idea why he assumed that. He'd spent so long in hell, it was sometimes hard to remember that he wasn't the only one who had lost everything.

Images flashed in his brain. Remus slumped over a club toilet, covered in his own vomit. Kneeling on the kitchen floor, surrounded by broken glass. On the couch, lips turning blue-

“I’d tried getting clean over the years, but it finally stuck about a year and a half before I went to Hogwarts. Dumbledore never would have considered it otherwise, I’m sure,” said Remus, interrupting his dark reverie.

Sirius nodded towards Remus’ forearms. “What about that?” he asked gently. 

Once again, Remus crossed his arms tightly across his chest. 

“I... I think that's enough for now," said Remus. "I'm pretty tired, with the moon and all."

Sirius nodded at him. He stood up, collecting the largely untouched cups of tea and cleaning up. Remus flashed him a small, grateful smile as Sirius let the conversation go. Truthfully, he didn't think he could stand to hear much more anyway. Remus excused himself back to bed, looking decidedly more exhausted than he had been when he got up.

Sirius lay awake the rest of the night,


	7. Can't Go Home Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dumbledore finally brings news. Remus and Sirius listen to some music.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to the people who have been commenting on this fic. It means so much to me.

“Are you sure you’re ready?” asked Remus, sat across from Sirius in the dead of night with a cup of tea. A position they kept finding themselves in.

Sirius sipped his drink contemplatively. “Does it matter?” he asked eventually. “It’s what has to happen.”

“I remember the letter you wrote me from James’ the night you left. You vowed you’d never step foot in that place again,” said Remus softly.

“Yes, well, I believe I also said I was going to learn the guitar and become a Rockstar around that time, so a lot of my life hasn’t worked out like I planned,” joked Sirius. “At least it’s a chance to do something useful.”

“I suppose it will be better protected than here. You’ll certainly have more room to yourself. Though I’ve kind of grown used to having you around,” said Remus with a small smile.

Sirius smiled back, but Remus could still see the worry lines that creased his face. They sat silently, sipping their tea.

Sirius had been uncharacteristically subdued in the hours since Dumbledore had stopped by unannounced. Both of them had been desperate for any news, a path forward, an update on Harry. What they’d gotten was a proposal. Dumbledore needed a secure location for Order headquarters. Sirius just so happened to be in possession of a disused home in the middle of London. As the last surviving heir of the Black estate, Sirius could hardly turn down the opportunity to disgrace his family legacy for a just cause. Of course he had volunteered the home readily, along with whatever other resources he could possibly contribute to the Order.

The unfortunate caveat being that, for convenience and for his own safety, Dumbledore wanted Sirius to live there until such a time as his name was cleared. He wanted him to go tomorrow. They had to move quick, get the Order running as fast as possible.

“At least you won’t be alone. The Weasley’s coming to help set up, Harry staying at the end of the summer,” said Remus reassuringly.

“I still think it’s fucked that he can’t come right away. Dumbledore can harp on and on about ‘protection’ but he’s fifteen. He’s spent too long with those people. I’ll never understand how he can keep sending him back,” snarled Sirius.

Remus looked down at his tea sadly. “No, me either. Still, Dumbledore must have good reason. I know he cares about Harry. He wouldn’t let him suffer like that if he had a choice.”

“Are you sure about that?” shot back Sirius.

“I need to be. I need to believe in him, or else what hope is there?”

Sirius sighed. “I can always look on the bright side. At least that empty house will serve as a nice little reminder that my miserable parents are finally dead and rotting. I’m only sorry they kicked the bucket while I was in Azkaban and couldn’t properly enjoy it,” he deadpanned.

“That’s the spirit.” 

They both sat for a while, Sirius fidgeting with his empty cup. Remus watched him, trying to imagine the mess of feelings that must be swirling around inside him at that moment. 

“What are you up to?” asked Remus abruptly.

“What?” asked Sirius, confused.

“What album, I mean. I know you’ve finished the eighties. I don’t think either of us will be sleeping well, and it is technically a new day. Why don’t we have a listen to the next one on the list?” suggested Remus, already standing up to head to record player.

“Uh, it was blue. The one with the naked baby on the front,” said Sirius, perking up a little.

“Oh, you’re going to like this,” said Remus, rifling through the album collection until he found the one he was looking for. “Nevermind by Nirvana. I was obsessed with this when it first came out.” Remus took the album out of the sleeve and set it in the record player. “It was on the radio constantly and it just hit too close to home, I think. I couldn’t get it out of my head.”

Remus leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes as the sound of music filled the room. They soaked in the bitter lyrics set to catchy hooks. Sirius found his mind wandering back to their shared youth. Back to pumping music at crowded bars.

Sirius was watching Remus as the music played. The way he slightly mouthed the lyrics to certain songs. The way he seemed to lose himself in it. There was something deeply mournful that wove its way through the music.

_Come as you are, as you were/ As I want you to be/ As a friend, as a friend/ As an old enemy_

The lyrics spoke of a longing, a loneliness, of a deep and all-consuming emptiness. Sirius found it hitting almost too close even as he was carried away in the rhythm. He remembered the way they used dissect the meanings of their favorite songs together.

_And just maybe, I’m to blame for all I’ve heard/ But I’m not sure/ I’m so excited, I can’t wait to meet you there_

He wondered sometimes about memories. He struggled with his own. His past felt so much like a dream, bits and pieces falling away until the exact moment something triggered their re-emergence. For so long he had only had the worst of his past to relive. He’d forgotten that he used to go dancing. He’d forgotten that he used to harass James into listening to new music with him, only to get frustrated that he never liked what Sirius liked. He’d forgotten that he and Remus used to listen for hours in peace. That they had been doing this since they were kids. Only he hadn’t really forgotten because it was all still there inside him. He had just lost access for so long.

_It's now my duty to completely drain you/ I travel through a tube and end up in your infection_

With every new experience he had since leaving Azkaban he had found not just a firmer grip on the present, but another little part of his past that had been buried deep inside him. Some days he almost felt like he knew who he was. It was getting easier. It was getting easier to find himself in the muck of his own mind.

The music came to a stop. Remus was staring down at the floor and Sirius had a million questions he wanted to ask but he didn’t know how. He wanted to know who this man was. Remus made his way over to the couch where he perched on the edge, looking over to Sirius.

“The lead singer of that band, Kurt Cobain, he died recently,” said Remus after a while. “Just last year. Suicide.”

“Oh,” said Sirius. “That’s sad to hear. I liked that music a lot.”

“Yeah. He was a heroin addict, you know? Had a lot of troubles. You can hear it in his songs.” A beat. “I’d been back in London a while when that album came out. I’d actually been clean a little under a year when I decided to come back. It was by far the longest I'd ever managed at that point and I think I got it in my head I was better. In control. Well, that didn’t last long. I thought I could handle it, but I really wasn’t prepared... So I was about six months into that whole mess and I was using pretty heavily but, truly, I was just so over it. I was tired. I’d turned thirty and I was just so fucking sick of myself. So angry that I could let myself get like that again. Angry at James, Lily, Peter. At Marley and Dory. Angry at you. Angry that the place that had been my home was nothing but a graveyard and I was left to wander it alone. That’s what I heard in his music. Someone who was as fucking sick of themselves as me. I just latched onto it.”

Sirius listened intently. Remus didn’t seem awkward or embarrassed. He was detached. Calm. The way he spoke was gentle and matter of fact.

“I think when I went back, some part of me hoped that it would be like going home again. But it could never be home again, because home wasn’t London, it was you. It was our friends. It was the life I built there. I loved that city because I loved the people in it, and there was nobody left but me, which meant there was nothing left to love,” Remus finished softly. 

Sirius leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his hair. Remus clasped his hands together on his knees. 

“That house was never my home,” said Sirius. “Not even as a child. I spent my whole life dreaming of escaping right up until the second I finally did.”

“I know.”

“I don’t want to go back.”

“I know that too.”

Remus looked at the clock on the wall. Time was fast ticking down as the two men prepared themselves to step into the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. Sirius stood up, striding over to the record player. He placed the needle over the vinyl. They listened over the album once more.


	8. Directives

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remus, Sirius, Dumbledore and McGonagall discuss important business.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow I am sorry for the long break between updates. Things have just been crazy and a shoulder injury made typing difficult for a while there. Thank you for sticking with it and a huge thank you to everyone who has been commenting on chapters! I cannot stress enough how much your comments motivate me to get back into writing and follow through with this story even when life gets a bit intense.
> 
> Also, as a note, I have decided that I am not going to be writing Kreacher into this story. I find the dynamics with the house elves in the HP universe really uncomfortable and it's just not something I want to write, but having him still be there and not addressing it would also be weird. So I just decided no Kreacher.

“The risk is too high, Sirius. I appreciate that you are looking out for Harry’s best interest, however I must prioritize his ongoing safety above all else. Agents have been placed around him to watch for signs of trouble,” assured Dumbledore with great patience.

“He watched a kid die!” exclaimed Sirius in a furious rush that he clearly wanted to be a shout. Would have been a shout, were it not for the hideous portrait that lay sleeping in the front hall above them after a fierce struggle from his last outburst. “He must be going out of his mind! He should be here with us.”

Remus flinched almost imperceptibly at the mention of Cedric’s murder, but stood firm by Sirius’ side in the kitchen that was now blessedly curse free, if not clean. Ordinarily he would try to diffuse the situation, but as he happened to be very much in agreement with Sirius, he was rather interested to hear a satisfying justification from Dumbledore. 

Minerva McGonagall stood opposite Remus and Sirius, arms folded and lips tightly pursed. She exchanged a tense glace with Remus, though like him, she chose not to interfere.

“Harry is where he needs to be for his own protection. He will be able to come here in due course. All of us share that goal. I only ask that you trust that I am putting Harry’s safety first,” reasoned Dumbledore.

“But-”

“I have business to attend to, I’m afraid,” he said politely in a way that clearly indicated the conversation was finished.

Sirius’ mouth hung open for a moment before he closed it tightly, jaw clenched. He took a step back towards Remus, clearing a path for Dumbledore.

“Minerva will be walking you through the preparations that will need to be made in advance of the first Order meeting. There should be plenty to keep you busy inside this house,” he said with a pointed look at Sirius, who had expressed great displeasure at the newly tightened restrictions on his movement. He turned to Remus. “Good to see you Remus, as always.”

Remus nodded politely. “Always a pleasure, Albus.”

Dumbledore swept out of the room in the direction of the entrance way, escorted by Minerva, who seemed to have private matters to confer on before she was left to deal with the two decidedly unsatisfied men.

Sirius shot Remus another frustrated look. Remus gave him a commiserating one in return. Neither spoke. Sirius strode over to the kitchen table and pulled out a chair, but instead of sitting down, he opted to lean against it while remaining standing, clenching his fists tightly over the top. Remus wandered over to join him, though he actually sat down, reaching out for his nearly empty teacup that had gone unpleasantly cold as the conversation with Dumbledore had grown heated. He didn’t take a sip. Just held it, tapping his finger against the ceramic absently. 

Sirius’ knuckles grew increasingly white as a minute passed. A muscle in his jaw twitched slightly. Just as he finally took a breath in, turning to Remus as if to speak, Minerva came back into the room.

A beat.

A sigh. 

“Well, I suppose we should get right to business,” she said tiredly as she took her own seat.

The three of them managed to get through all of the items at hand without any further conflict. Remus had grown used to a certain level of informality during his time working with Minerva at Hogwarts. Of course, she was never going to be an easy-going person, but they got along well as peers and he’d largely shaken any residual feelings that he was not a real adult in her presence. He got a few looks from Sirius when they exchanged some mild banter about a few of his former students as the meeting progressed.

By the time they had brought all official matters to a close, they were all a little more at ease. 

“It was good seeing you again, Remus, as always,” she said with a small smile. 

“You too, Minerva,” he smiled back.

She looked over at Sirius who immediately shot her a big, toothy grin. This was the first time since his escape that the two of them had actually seen each other in anything other than panicked passing. 

Now that business was over and tempers were cooled, she finally had a moment to see the man in front of her as he is, rather than as a walking state of crisis. The man that she had known as a bright-eyed boy so long ago.

“Nice seeing you Minnie,” he said with a wink that sent both her and Remus back to a simpler time.

Sirius let out a small yelp of shock as she crossed the short distance between them and pulled him into a tight hug. “It’s good to have you back, Sirius,” she said, her voice a little watery. 

She quickly composed herself as she pulled away, brushing the front of her robe and clearing her throat. “So, you’ll be remaining here at Grimmauld Place, then, Remus?” she asked, nothing but professional.

“A few days, yes. Until the meeting. It’ll take the both of us to make this place functional by then.”

She nodded, not quite able to tell if Remus also noticed the way Sirius tensed back up at the mention of his imminent departure. With one final tight smile and farewell, she left them.

They stood in silence another few moments until they heard the front door close, at which point Sirius whipped around to face Remus, a smirk playing across his lips.

“Albus and Minerva, is it? Forget the cooking, Moony, I never imagined I’d see this day,” he teased.

Remus rolled his eyes. “You’ve been calling them Al and Minnie since you were twelve.”

“Yeah, but I’m me. You are decidedly _not_ me.”

“Yes, well… actually, they both insisted after I started working with them. It took some getting used to,” he admitted sheepishly. 

Remus was glad that Sirius was seemingly in a better mood. They had only been at Grimmauld Place for two days, and his moods had varied wildly. For almost the entire first day he hadn’t spoken. As soon as they entered the house alongside Dumbledore they had been confronted by the screeching visage of Sirius’ deceased mother, howling at the ‘blood traitors’ and the ‘filthy half-breed.’ Even Dumbledore had appeared a little taken aback. 

“Well Moony, now you know where I inherited my wit and charm,” Sirius had said once they finally wrestled the curtains closed, followed by a loud bark of laughter. It was the last words he spoke until that night, nearly twelve hours later.

He absently nodded along as Dumbledore impressed upon him how vital it was that he not leave the premises now that he was there. How important it was that neither of them reveal any details of the organization to Harry.

The next day, when he was once again speaking (ranting) in full force, it was largely to passionately curse out Dumbledore for those same directives.

In the time they had been there, they had managed to make the house ever so slightly more habitable. They had started with Sirius’ bedroom. He thought it the easiest place to begin as it was the less likely to be in some way cursed, though he couldn't say what his family had done with the space once he'd left home.

They had to sink a good few hours into clearing out the Doxies. Not to mention the thick layer of grime and dust.

Remus had laughed out loud at the sight of his walls. The pictures of bikini clad muggle girls draped across motorbikes. The Gryffindor regalia that was more excessive than the decorations in the Gryffindor common room itself. 

“You really weren’t fucking around,” he had commented affectionately.

“I guess not.”

“Should have brought me home for family dinner if you wanted to _really_ piss off the parents,” Remus joked. “Werewolf boyfriend trumps half naked poster girls, surely?”

“They would have killed you,” mumbled Sirius offhandedly.

“What?” 

Sirius looked up at Remus from where he had been attempting to vanish a patch of mold. His face was completely impassive.

“They would have killed you. If I brought you into this house and told them what you are, you would not have left here alive.”

The statement was so completely matter of fact. No hesitation. No doubt. Just an unpleasant, unarguable truth. Remus’ smile had fallen as Sirius had gone right back to work. 

At first they had considered that Remus take Regulus’ room for the time that he was there. Sirius stood outside the door for half an hour without opening it. They instead opted for a guest bedroom on the same floor, with the Master being reserved for Buckbeak, who would be retrieved from Remus’ property just as soon as they were sure they could get him there safely.

So, yes. It was rather nice to see Sirius back in good spirits. At least for the time being. He had no doubt the next shift would not be far away.

“Should be a laugh getting the old gang back together for this meeting,” said Sirius with a grimace.

“I think there’s going to be some newcomers, too,” said Remus.

“One in particular.”

“Don’t start, Pads-”

“I’m just saying, I can hardly be blamed if I feel the need to punch him in his greasy, gitty face is all.”

“You can and you will. You’re an adult. You’re on the same side. If I could play nice for a whole year you can do it for a few hours.”

“He didn’t try to get your soul sucked out of your body, did he?” Sirius snapped.

Remus looked down, putting his hands in his pockets. He shook his head slightly, banishing the image conjured by Sirius’ words.

“No, but he did out me to entire wizarding community as a lycanthrope so if I can restrain from decking him then you can too. To be fair, I think he genuinely still thought you were a mass murdered at that point, not that it makes it okay…”

“As if he wouldn’t still throw me to the Dementors first chance he got.”

Remus hesitated. “Yeah, probably. Still, Dumbledore seems to think-”

“Yeah, I know. I know. I’ll rise above,” he said with a wave of his hand.

Remus still looked skeptical, but he let it drop.

“Well, if we want to be ready for this meeting then the first thing, we’ll need to do is make sure this kitchen is fit for more than just making tea. Come on, let’s get to work and maybe it’ll be good enough that I can cook something better than porridge for dinner tonight.”


	9. And Another

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Weasley's arrive at Grimmauld Place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's this??? An update for the second week in a row?? And the next chapter already written and ready to go on time for next week?????? Maybe even sooner if I get too antsy to wait?!?? I'm on a roll babey!!!
> 
> Seriously though, I had some fun with this chapter but I am SO excited for the next one, when everyone finally gets together. It's a good time.

On the day of the meeting, the thing that would solidify the return of the Order of the Phoenix and, to Remus' mind, the official deceleration of war (another war) Remus couldn't help but cast his mind back to the very first Order meeting he had ever attended. It has been transcendent. They were all so hopeful. So young. So alive. They had stayed back afterwards at headquarters, the Marauders and Lily. The Longbottom's, the Prewett's, Hagrid, even Moody stayed for a while. Dorcas and Marlene were there. They hadn't known the girls as well at that point, having been a few years behind them at school. They became instant friends. They laughed. They drank. They drank some more. The whole lot of them had been so sloshed by the end that they had to practically hold each other up to stumble back to their share house to pass out. They had been so in love with the world and not one of them had voiced a single fear about the fight they were joining even though every one them was so, so afraid.

The next morning the rest of them had gone to work, grumbling and moaning about hangovers and downing the entire household supply of potions. Remus didn't have a job to go to. Instead of curing his hangover with a potion, he'd cured it with another drink. And another drink. And another.

The first to arrive were the Weasley’s, eight in the morning, bright eyed Molly with her bleary eyed kids. Remus and Sirius greeted them at the door, ready to help them settle into their temporary home. Sirius was grouchy after Remus had to bang on his door to wake him.

“Mrs Weasley,” said Sirius stiffly, voice hushed. “Welcome to my humble home. I’m going to need you all to keep your voices low when you’re in this part of the house.”

“Sirius, dear, good to see you looking healthier,” said Molly cheerfully, though quietly, as she pulled him into a hug, apparently having taken the time since their last, rather alarming meeting to adjust to the fact that he was not in fact a murderer. “Still a bit peaky, though. I’ll fix that up.” She turned to Remus. “And you must be the Professor Lupin that I’ve heard so much about,” she said, extending her hand to him, which he took with a smile.

“Call me Remus, please,” he said politely.

“Of course. And that will be Molly to the both of you. Well, Remus, my kids have had nothing but wonderful things to say about you. It’s such a shame, everything that happened. They all tell me you were the best Defense teacher they ever had, and that’s certainly saying something for the older ones who’ve already been through five.”

Remus looked over at the kids standing behind Molly. Ginny and Ron were both going red, trying not to meet his eyes. Fred and George, however, greeted him with a totally unashamed thumbs up. Remus’ smile turned into an outright grin. Sirius felt a smile of his own coming on as he watched his friend glow under the praise.

“Good to see you all again,” said Remus, earning a chorus of greetings from the group.

The kids all quickly turned their attention to Sirius, with Ginny and the twins staring intently, though Ginny with a decidedly less delighted energy than her brothers. Ron just waved at Sirius and smiled.

“Good seeing you, mate.”

“How you been, Ron?”

“Bloody brilliant now that I’m here. This place is proper spooky.”

Molly shot Ron a scolding look. Never mind that she’d given the house a thorough look of disgust as she first walked in, at least she had the decency not to comment. Ron just shrugged at her. "What? It is."

“Come on,” said Remus. “Sirius will give you all the tour. We’ve made a few of the rooms habitable, but they could still use a good clean, so you’ll have plenty to do today,” he said to the kids, all of whom groaned in response. “You’ll be fine. I’m going to put on some tea. Should be ready once you’ve put your things away.”

“Sounds like a good plan,” said Molly. “Arthur will be joining us after work, in time for the meeting.”

The Weasley’s, led by Sirius, made their way to the stairs, all taking in the strange sights around them as they went. Fred and George marveled in disgusted awe at the row of House-elf heads mounted on the wall. Molly seemed to be trying very hard not to touch anything.

The boys and Molly were all at the first landing with Sirius while Ginny lingered a little behind, still staring at the portraits and other strange sights. Remus was just about to head down to the kitchen when the poor girl made the unfortunate mistake of trying to peek behind the curtain that housed the sleeping portrait of Walburga Black.

“BLOOD TRAITORS!” the painting wailed, causing Ginny to stumble backwards and the rest of the Weasley’s to jump in alarm. “FILTHY HALF-BREEDS IN MY ANCIENT HOME!”

Remus and Sirius sprung into action instantly, sprinting towards the picture. Sirius practically leapt down the flight of stairs, instantly enraged.

“Shut your mouth you filthy hag!” Sirius shouted back as he and Remus grabbed one side of the curtains each and desperately tried to yank them closed.

“MY OWN SON BRINGING FILTH INTO THIS HOUSE!” she screeched.

“Shut the fuck up you stupid fucking cow of a woman!” Sirius screeched right back over the top of her continued string of slurs and insults.

Remus pulled out his wand and shot a stunning spell at the picture. Then another. “WEREWOLF SCUM!” And another stunning spell.

At last they managed to get the curtains closed and blessed silence rang through the room. Sirius and Remus both slumped back, panting slightly. Sirius laughed a little in relief.

Remus looked back up the stairs and saw the Weasley clan staring down at them both, every last one of them wide eyed in alarm. Molly in particular looked completely aghast, jaw hanging open. Remus stepped towards them, raising his hands in a calming gesture.

"Sorry," squeaked Ginny.

“It's alright, you didn't know. This is why we try to be quiet down here,” Remus explained in a low voice. “Can’t figure out how to get her down, unfortunately.”

“Well,” said Sirius, making his way back up to the landing, “now that you’ve met dear old mum, why don’t we continue on with the tour?”

"How'd she even know we're blood traitors?" asked Fred.

"Yeah," said George. "Usually we at least have to introduce ourselves before they figure that out."

"Mother's always been rather gifted that way," deadpanned Sirius.

Molly tapped both the twins on the backs of their heads in warning as Ron barely managed to suppress a laugh. Sirius glanced back over his shoulder at Remus with a look that seemed to say he was ready for the day to be over immediately. Remus grimaced sympathetically.

“I’ll start the tea then,” he said, excusing himself to the kitchen and leaving Sirius alone with the new housemates.

The tea had just finished brewing when Sirius entered the kitchen. It had only been five minutes, but he already looked exhausted.

“Do you know the last time I had to talk to that many people at once? It was the fucking Shrieking Shack,” he said, leaning against the counter. “Thankfully they all just wanted to settle into their rooms. I think I used to be an extrovert once upon a time.”

Remus scoffed. “You were never an extrovert. People just treated you like one because you were charming and you never shut up, but you pretty much hated spending time with anyone who wasn’t part of our group. Even when we went out, if a stranger actually tried to talk to you they either got flirted with or got hit and either way you weren’t engaging for longer than a minute at a time.”

“I guess you’re right,” said Sirius thoughtfully. “Still, I’ve only just gotten used to having _one_ person around to talk to. They seem like a nice enough family but Merlin's beard, Moony, that’s only _half of them_.”

Remus opened his mouth to respond, but before he got the chance Molly emerged at the entrance with a decidedly unhappy demeanor. Sirius perked up a little, plastering a pleasant smile on his face that Remus knew was entirely fake.

“How are you finding the accommodations, then?” he asked.

“They’re fine, thank you. I wanted to discuss something with you,” she said tersely.

“Oh?”

“In the future, I would appreciate if you can use appropriate language around the children.”

“What?” asked Sirius, befuddled.

“Those things you were shouting at that portrait. I would rather not have that kind of language around my children.”

Remus had to turn away, pretending to be fussing with the tea, in order to hide his amusement. The look on Sirius face was priceless.

“Are you kidding me? I don’t think the things I was shouting were the most offensive utterances in that interaction,” he said indignantly.

“Believe me, if I thought it could possibly make a difference, I would be making this same request of the painting.”

Sirius laughed in disbelief. “Come on, Molly, they must hear worse than ‘fuck’ at school all the time! I mean, I remember when we were that age,” he said turning to Remus, who shook his head, absolutely not wanting to get involved, “we used to-”

“I don’t care what you did at school. You’re not children anymore. You are responsible adults, and I would rather you set a better example, if you don’t mind,” said Molly in a clipped tone.

"Well, I wouldn't want to be irresponsible," said Sirius sarcastically. "You'll have to forgive me, we can't all have such perfect examples for a mother."

"Clearly."

Sirius narrowed his eyes at her, crossing his arms. “Fine. I’ll make sure I set a good example for as long as you are guests in _my_ house.”

Molly at least had the decency to look sheepish at that. Remus recognized that she was likely under a great deal of stress herself and only had good intentions. Still, Sirius was not someone who took well to being told what to do.

“Good then,” she said, softening her tone. “Thank you for understanding. I think I’ll go unpack for a while. I’ll be down later to make lunch for everyone.”

With a brief, awkward smile, she turned around and excused herself from the room. Sirius watched her go. Remus stared down at the bench and the untouched, steaming cups.

“I guess nobody is having tea, then. I should’ve got some chocolate. Everyone loves chocolate,” he said to Sirius, who didn’t seem to have even registered that he had spoken. Didn't even glance around. “Maybe I’ll get some for the meeting tonight. Or maybe just crush up some Valium into everyone’s drinks. That’ll keep conflict to a minimum,” he joked. "Always worked for me."

Still no response. Sirius almost seemed to have forgotten he was there as he turned on the spot and disappeared with a loud crack, presumably to go sulk in his room.

Remus sighed. "Or not, I guess," he muttered in frustration, grabbing the tea cups and dumping out the contents into the sink.


	10. What We Miss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moody arrives early.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One day late because I fell asleep last night instead of posting, but here you go!  
> The whole period of time between the Weasley's arriving and the end of the big meeting was originally going to be one whole chapter but there's just so much to explore! So we'll get to the actual meeting next chapter haha.  
> As always, thank you so much to my lovely commenters. I know I don't always respond to individual comments because I rarely have more to say than 'ahhh thank you!' again and again, but know that I read and reread every single comment so many times. So thank you.

Sirius didn’t emerge from his room until just before Arthur arrived, when he finally decided he'd simmered down enough to control himself. When he saw Molly again, she was back to being friendly and Sirius followed her cue, having no desire to continue any unpleasantness between them. If she could get over herself, then so could he. 

Arthur Weasley could only be described as jovial, shaking Sirius’ hand enthusiastically with not even a hint of the apprehension that he had grown to expect from people. In fact, he didn’t seem even remotely interested in Sirius’ time in Azkaban as much as his time on the run, peppering him with questions about the various muggle communities in the different countries he’d been rumored to have been spotted in. 

Sirius was genuinely sorry to disappoint him with the fact that he spent all of his time out of sight, not interacting with the community, what with being a wanted fugitive. He almost told Arthur he should ask Remus about it, since he was much more well-traveled and generally familiar with muggle culture. He decided, very magnanimously, not to mention it. As funny as it would be for Sirius to watch, he thought Remus might not appreciate intensive questioning about his past from a relative stranger. A very excitable stranger at that.

Molly and Arthur disappeared upstairs as she gave him a tour of the house and time to settle in before the meeting. The kids were all busying themselves setting up their rooms after having finally settled all disputes over who would sleep where. Remus had apparently gone out to fetch some groceries at Molly’s request.

This left Sirius alone when the first member of the order arrived. Alastor Moody, a full hour early, there to perform his own recon and assessment of headquarters. Sirius figured he should have predicted this. It would have been strange if the man had done anything else.

Still, he found himself completely at a loss when he came face to face with his old boss, his old mentor, in the dark, quite entrance to Grimmauld Place.

He'd seen Moody's picture in the papers after what happened with Barty Crouch Jr. He knew what he looked like now. Sirius had seen him, unconscious in the Hogwarts hospital wing when Harry had been there in the wake of Voldemort's return. His magical eye had been absent, leaving only the empty socket. Moody must have been as thin and frail as Sirius was at the time. Even more so. Still, even being prepared, he couldn't quite quell the shock at seeing a face he once recognized so well that had been so thoroughly, violently changed.

“Black,” grunted Moody, both eyes planted firmly on the man in front of him. “Nice place you got here,” he said after a moment, magical eye beginning to swing around in all directions.

“It’s a heinous place.”

“Doesn’t need to be pretty, just secure. I’ve dealt with enough of your relatives to know they don't build homes that people can just wander into uninvited. Perfect for what we need.”

“True enough,” said Sirius with a smirk. “You’ve lost a few more body parts since our last meeting.”

“There were a lot of Death Eaters to round up after the war. Can’t say many were cooperative,” said Moody with what could only be described as a smirk of his own, though his expressions weren’t entirely easy to decipher on his mangled face.

“Oh, I know. You weren’t very popular with my old roommates. A lot of them talked about you when they first came in. Before they went silent, at least. They all went silent eventually,” said Sirius evenly.

Moody cleared his throat gruffly. Neither of his eyes were on Sirius now. 

“Come on,” said Sirius. “You want to clear the meeting room, I’m assuming?”

Sirius led Moody downstairs even though he was sure Moody already had every relevant detail about the layout of the house and where the meetings would be held thanks to Dumbledore. Had likely already memorized the layout of the house before arriving.

Moody followed behind him quietly. When they got to the door of the basement kitchen, Sirius gestured politely for Moody to enter. Sirius stayed back in the doorway and watched as Moody surveyed every inch of the room. He preformed a few spells as he went, running his wand deftly along the perimeter. 

It felt strange to watch him work this way, in his childhood home of all places. As a young Auror, there was that ever present feeling that Moody could protect people from anything. Like he was invincible. James and him had both held such a deep admiration for the man. Such pride that Moody took a personal interest in them both. For just a moment Sirius imagined what his life could have been if Moody had come into this home when he was still a child to ward away dark magic and cast his own protection over these rotten walls and banish all the rotten things that dwelled within.

It was too late. Even Moody could not make him safe here now. Invincible men don’t get locked in a chest for a year while mad men use their likeness to do horrible things.

“We’ve still got time,” said Sirius as Moody looked to be wrapping up. “Why don’t you sit down. Have a drink. We’ve got tea and coffee,” said Sirius.

“You’ve got a case of wine in a false panel behind that cabinet,” said Moody, gesturing offhandedly to one of the cupboards. “Expensive stuff, too. Older than Dumbledore, some of it.”

“Oh shit,” exclaimed Sirius, looking over to where he’d pointed, mouth starting to water. “Never did spend much time down here. Shame, would’ve made the Summers more bearable if I’d known," he joked. "You want to break some out?” he asked with a raised brown and mischievous glint.

“No, never touch anything I haven’t prepared myself. Constant vigilance,” said Moody, pulling out his little hip flask and taking a swig as Sirius reeled with painful nostalgia at the utterance of the familiar catchphrase. “Just figured you’d want to know it was there. I’d check it thoroughly for curses before you touch a drop.”

“I won’t touch a doorknob in this house without running through every defensive spell I’ve ever learned, let alone put things into my mouth,” said Sirius with an incredulous laugh. All for the best anyway, he thought. He didn't know how Remus would feel about people drinking around him. He was leaving for his cottage the next day anyway. Leaving Sirius all alone with the Weasley's. Sirius would have no cause to feel bad about breaking into his parents secret stash after that.

“Good lad,” said Moody before taking another swig from his flask.

“You know, you seem a little crazier than I remember,” said Sirius, who distinctly recalled Moody drinking from the communal coffee pot in the days they worked together.

“And you’re not?” Moody shot back.

Sirius laughed a short, sharp bark. “So much more than you know.”

Things went silent between them. A long, heavy silence that Sirius had no idea how to fill. Moody had been one of the few people from the past that Sirius was somewhat looking forward to seeing at this meeting, but now that he was here, it was difficult. Things were always difficult. He couldn't quite remember if life had always been this hard. 

Moody was very still, but for his magical eye. When he finally spoke, it was gruff. Uncomfortable. Moody was not someone who had ever struggled to speak up, but there was a distinct tone of awkwardness in his words that was so unlike anything Sirius had ever heard from him.

“Listen, Black-”

“You don’t have to-”

“I do have to. I do,” said Moody in a way that brokered no dispute. “What happened to you, I should have known. You were a good soldier. Loyal. A bit unstable, but damn good at your job and committed to the cause. After you were locked up that was it for me. I knew that if I couldn’t see something like that right under my nose, still couldn’t figure it out it even after the fact, then I didn’t have it in me anymore. I stuck around long enough to round up as much of the filth as I could, but once things settled, I was out.” Moody paused for a moment. “I thought the biggest mistake of my career was not seeing you for what you were. I was wrong. It was seeing you for exactly who you were and then doubting it anyway.”

Sirius stared back at him with searching eyes. He looked as stoic as ever despite the uncharacteristic personal sentiment. 

“You’re not the only one who didn’t see what was in front of them. I misjudged someone much closer to me with much more dire consequences than a prison sentence,” said Sirius quietly. “You taught me better than that. I guess we're all fallible.” But only one of us got our best friends slaughtered with our stupid fucking mistakes.

Moody nodded. What else was there to say?

“So, tell me about some of these scumbags you rounded up after I went away," said Sirius abruptly. "I’ve heard some bits and pieces from the other end that I’d love to get your side of,” he added with a grin.

They talked for a while about Moody’s various dramatic encounters after the war, with Sirius filling Moody in on some of the wild, bragging accounts of inmates who had recently arrived claiming to have maimed or disfigured the great Alastor Moody in some way. Neither was surprised to find that these tales had usually been largely exaggerated.

By the time Remus arrived in the kitchen, a couple of grocery bags in hand, Sirius was laughing and chatting happily.

“Moody,” greeted Remus politely. “Good seeing you again.”

“Lupin,” grunted Moody by way of greeting. He looked Remus up and down appraisingly with his one good eye while the false one spun wildly. “You’re looking a damn sight better than the last time we crossed paths.”

“Uh, yes, I’m doing well now, thank you,” said Remus awkwardly, eyes darting around to see if anyone else was within earshot.

“Oh?” remarked Sirius with a raised eyebrow. “I didn’t realize the two of you kept in touch.”

“Actually, I’d rather not-” began Remus before being cut off by Moody.

“I kept tabs on all former Order members. Security reasons. Came in handy when Lupin here got himself in bit of bother with-”

“Moody, I’d actually rather keep that between the two of us if you don’t mind,” said Remus in a hushed voice as more footsteps began descending the stairs.

“Right, right,” said Moody gruffly. “It’s your business. Still, good to see you’ve turned a corner.”

Remus nodded, shoving his hands in his pockets and trying to ignore the slightly amused, deeply intrigued stare he was getting from Sirius. Moody shuffled off to take a seat at the long, wooden dining table right as Molly and Arthur entered the room.

“Moody! Good to see you,” said Arthur, making his way to sit by Moody’s side and launch directly into an animated, if somewhat one-sided conversation.

Molly rolled her eyes affectionately at her husband as she headed for the kitchen and started pulling out plates and cutlery. “Come on then, you boys can help me set up!” she called back over her shoulder.

Sirius leaned in close to Remus' ear, whispering playfully. “Whatever that story is, you’re telling me later.” Even if he had to pry it out of him, which he was almost certain would be the case.

Then Sirius was off by Molly’s side. It took Remus just a moment to process the whole sequence of events, but once he did he was joining the rest of them cheerfully. He didn't notice the way Remus ran his finger over the spot on his ear that still tingled a little from Sirius’ breath.


	11. Stories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Order of the Phoenix is re-formed. Remus and Sirius swap stories.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone had a nice holiday period, whatever you do or don't celebrate!  
> Things have been crazy but I'm really happy to be back! I had so much trouble with this chapter. I've written and rewritten it too many times and I'm still not really happy with it, but it's done and that's what matters haha. Quite a few new readers showed up over the last few weeks and I just want to say thank you for all your lovely comments, it really helped me push through this slump :)  
> Hope you're all safe and well in this new year and that it brings better things for all of us than the last one.

“If he needs it so much, then we can just destroy it,” suggested Tonks enthusiastically.

Remus almost couldn't help laughing at the confidence with which the bright haired young woman offered this solution, like it was so simple and she couldn't understand why nobody had thought of it first. He wondered how long it would take before she realized that nothing was ever going to be simple. That easy answers did not exist in issues pertaining to Voldemort.

“It doesn’t work like that,” said Kingsley in his calm, deep voice. “Prophecies are protected by powerful magic. None of us could even touch it. Not to mention the difficulties associated with getting that deep into the Department of Mysteries.”

“We may come to need it later. That information could be as valuable to us as to the other side,” said Hestia Jones, a pale, black haired witch that Remus only vaguely knew during the first war, as she was only involved in a limited capacity back then.

“That prophecy killed Harry’s parents!” declared Molly angrily. “I don’t know what good it could possibly do to leave it out in the world.”

“The prophecy didn’t kill James and Lily. Voldemort did,” said Sirius coldly, ignoring the shiver that traveled around the table at the use of the name. “If he wants this so desperately, there has to be a way of using it against him. Setting a trap and fighting rather than sitting on our asses and waiting for him to make a move!”

Remus tensed up beside Sirius as several people opened their mouths to argue, but they were all cut short when Dumbledore spoke.

“Enough,” he said firmly. “I assure you, all possibilities are being thoroughly explored. For now, our first priority is protection. Voldemort will not go to the ministry personally. He has not yet gained enough power to risk revealing himself. That does not mean he will not send anyone in his place.”

“We can gain access to the department entrance thanks to some key contacts,” explained Moody from his position beside Dumbledore at the head of the table. “As long as we remain discreet with our comings and goings, we are able to put one of us on guard duty every night. Dumbledore and I are in agreement that we should schedule people on as soon as tomorrow night.”

“We will need volunteers to hand their names over to Mr Shaklebolt at the end of the meeting. He will be arranging the schedule,” said Dumbledore.

Remus and Sirius glanced at each other. Remus gave a small nod to Sirius’ questioning look. Of course he would be volunteering.

The rest of the meeting progressed in a calmer fashion, wrapping up fairly soon after with another rundown of some logistical elements of the Order’s operations. By the end, it was clear everyone was exhausted. Well, except maybe Tonks, who still seemed to be buzzing a little from the excitement of being there. Remus knew that she was not the only young person joining up. The oldest Weasley children were also eager to be involved, with Bill set to arrive in London within the week. Still, for the moment, she stood out rather starkly. Especially after her rather dramatic entrance into the house, resulting in a toppled umbrella stand and a screeching portrait.

The mood of the night had started out quite warm. Many of the people there had been involved in the Order the first time around in at lest a peripheral manner. There was an air of reunion. Of camaraderie. The newcomers were all welcomed happily.

Even Sirius seemed to be enjoying himself a little, particularly after the initial awkwardness that always came with people seeing him for the first time out of prison started to wear off. His mood was greatly improved by the news that Snape would not be able to attend the meeting, even though Remus was sure part of him wanted the fight.

Sirius was especially delighted to see Hagrid, who had enveloped him in a crushing bear hug that Sirius made a great effort to tolerate. He also appeared to get on well with Tonks, the daughter of his favorite cousin Andromeda. Sirius and Andromeda had been very friendly after he left home, though they eventually dropped out of regular contact due to the chaos of the war.

Remus was glad to see everyone enjoying themselves. Really. He was. He just couldn’t find it in himself to join in. In fact, he couldn't bring himself to do anything but sit quietly next Sirius and wish he could disappear.

He was already shaken up enough by his interaction with Moody and the inevitability of having to explain it to Sirius. He was most certainly not prepared for the string of cautious glances and ‘Good to see you’re doing better,’ and ‘Sorry about your recent troubles,’ from every other person that entered the house. He definitely wasn’t prepared for the curious glances it prompted from Sirius every single time. 

He absolutely, without a doubt, was not prepared for Mundungus Fucking Fletcher to lean in close, one of the last people to leave at the meeting’s conclusion, and tell him he has a great connection for more _specialized_ potions, ‘You know, if you’re still into that kind of thing.’

“Thank you, but no," he mumbled uncomfortably while hoping to whatever powers might be that Dung didn’t decide he was in the mood to reminisce.

Sirius was looking at him intently as Dung shuffled upstairs, leaving them alone in the basement with just the Weasley’s. Remus couldn’t tell if he was more amused or concerned. 

“Well, we’re off to bed then,” said Arthur with an exhausted smile. 

“Remus, dear, will we be seeing you before you leave for Wales in the morning?” asked Molly.

“I’ll stick around for breakfast then head off,” he replied.

“I bet you’re looking forward to sleeping in your own bed again,” said Arthur. “That’s always what I miss the most.”

The Weasley’s said their goodnights, leaving Remus and Sirius alone in the basement kitchen. Sirius sat back down at the table, looking very much as if he had something to say and no desire to say it. Remus sat down across from him. There was silence. 

It was broken suddenly by the sound of Molly yelling from upstairs. “Have you kids been up this whole time? I told you to stay in your rooms while the meeting was happening!” It was followed by the sound of hurried footsteps and at least one hastily slammed door.

Remus and Sirius looked at each other and laughed. “Honestly, every single one of those kids is a handful on their own. I can’t tell you how thankful I am I never had to have them all at once in a class,” Remus joked. "Managing the twins was chaos enough. Worse than you and James, and I don't say that lightly."

“Really? Well, that is an impressive claim. The girl, Ginny, she seems pretty tame at least. A bit quieter,” mused Sirius.

“Oh, don’t be fooled. Give her enough time to get comfortable around you and she’s worse than the lot of them. More powerful than anyone gives her credit for and takes no shit.”

“Ah, yes. Always a dangerous and wonderful combination,” said Sirius with a smile. “So,” he started, dropping the smile in favor of an expectant stare, “are you going to explain?”

“Explain what?” asked Remus evenly, folding his arms over his chest.

“Don’t do that. You barley said a word all night. Why the fuck were people being so weird with you? And don’t even get me started on what just happened with Dung,” he scoffed. 

Remus sighed. “I crashed on his couch about a month after… it happened. Right before I left London. Haven’t seen him since then.”

Sirius let out a low whistle. “Mundungus Fletcher’s couch. What in Merlin’s beard must that have been like?”

Remus furrowed his brow. “The place was a shithole and I had to deal with people he’d pissed off coming to the door threatening to assault or curse him more than once. But he taught me some things that came in useful later and didn’t complain when I would shoot up on his couch, so, you know. Pretty much the best I could have hoped for at the time,” said Remus sardonically. “Dung has many faults, but he let me stay for free until I decided to leave, and I never felt judged by him. Wouldn’t say we were ever really friends, as such, but that has to count for something.”

Sirius nodded, taking in every word intently. “And the others?” he asked carefully, knowing full well that Remus hated talking about his past. Or anything remotely difficult to talk about, really. He hadn’t changed in that way, though he was blessedly more willing to suck it up and do it anyway than he used to be.

Remus looked at Sirius hesitantly. He had been doing better lately, but he could still be volatile. Fragile. This seemed to be a good day for him and Remus wasn’t keen to bring his mood down. He weighed up his options and came to the eventual conclusion that refusing to talk was more likely to send Sirius spiraling than discussing upsetting topics.

“After the war ended the people that were left tried quite hard to keep in touch for a while,” started Remus softly. “I didn’t want to see anyone, but they just sort of kept showing up. The Longbottom’s and Hagrid were the worst for it. Even people like Diggle, Dodge, Jones, the others who were never really in that core group still came over with so many fucking casseroles that I barley ever ate. I don’t really know what it was, if they were all like that with each other or everyone was just feeling sorry for me in particular. I just couldn’t get away from it. I managed to get through all the funerals sober because it just seemed… disrespectful not to, but after that things went south pretty quickly. I don’t think all of them necessarily knew the exact nature of my problems, but I imagine it was pretty evident to everyone that I wasn’t doing so well.” Remus sighed, rubbing at his forehead. “Especially after what happened at- look,” said Remus, suddenly very awkward, “suffice to say, the last time most of these people saw me, I was a mess. The few that I worked with at Hogwarts know I’m different now, but after tonight it seems like everyone else just sees that fucked up kid, except now they also know I’m a werewolf, which most of them didn’t before, oh, and I resigned from my teaching position in disgrace and it was plastered all over the bloody papers. So, it’s been a fun night.”

“Hang on, hang on a second,” said Sirius, holding up a hand. “You can’t just do that. Especially after _what_ , exactly?”

“Come on, Pads, I’m allowed a healthy amount of shame. If you really want to know I’m sure you can badger someone at the next meeting into telling you. Judging by the looks I was getting they clearly all remember,” said Remus, cringing. “I only know half of what happened because it was recounted to me after the fact.”

“How about if you tell me this story, I’ll tell you a prison story. Quid quo pro,” Sirius suggested.

“I don’t need to trade you for those stories when you give them away for free. You told Tonks and Moody at least three prison stories before the meeting even started. You’re going to need to do better than that if you want anything out of me,” declared Remus.

“Am I being punished for my emotional honesty? Is that what I’m hearing?”

“Emotional honesty? You tell stories about Azkaban like you’re recounting anecdotes from the worlds most fucked up summer camp! It's some kind of honestly, but I wouldn't call it a shining example of vulnerability,” scoffed Remus.

“Fine. Alright, fine. You tell me what happened, and I promise I will tell you about… about the first thing I did after I escaped,” said Sirius, taking on a more solemn tone.

This piqued Remus’ interest. As far as he knew, the first thing Sirius did was find Harry at Privet Drive. He really never thought to question it. Sirius seemed almost nervous to bring it up.

“Okay. Deal,” said Remus, prompting a small smile from Sirius. 

Remus took a deep breath, readying himself. Sirius did the same, suspecting that the story to come was likely not a fun one.

“About six months after the war, someone arranged a get together for all the surviving Order members, some sort of memorial or reunion or whatever. Hagrid showed up at my door and practically dragged me to the event, held at The Three Broomsticks. He’d showed up a few times over the months, but I think he just thought I was depressed and drunk, which wasn’t wrong, but you know, it’s Hagrid. He doesn’t know anything about drugs. He just gave me a few cups of coffee to sober me up a bit and off we went. I think Dumbledore and McGonagall were concerned right away, but I just avoided them at all costs, and it was fine. There was free wine, which I took great advantage of, but even with that, being around all those people was difficult,” said Remus sadly. “Everyone just looked at me like I was pathetic, as if I didn’t already know that. I don't even know. It was all just a fog for a long time. I barley even remember the first few months and it was longer still before I could be even remotely functional in public. I tried to leave early, but Dumbledore caught me and insisted he wanted me to stay. Said he was concerned about how much I’d been isolating myself. I don’t know why I listened to him. Some time after that, things go a bit fuzzy. See, I’d brought a little something extra with me and I decided to sneak away to the bathrooms to use it. Next thing I remember, I wake up in the Hogwarts hospital wing,” he finished with a wince. 

“No,” Sirius breathed, jaw hanging open. “You did this while Dumbledore was there?

“Unfortunately, yes,” grimaced Remus. “The sequence of events, as it was told to me afterward, was that I combined a rather large dose of opiates with an extremely large quantity of alcohol, then stumbled back out into the main room right in the middle of Dumbledore giving a speech to thank everyone for being there. Frank Longbottom said he spotted me and came over to help at which point I very loudly declared that I was completely fine, threw up on him, and promptly fell to the floor unconscious.”

“Ah yes, a classic Moony party move. I believe I’ve seen that one before,” teased Sirius, hoping the humor might alleviate the tightness in his chest as he imagined the scene playing out. It didn’t work, especially when Remus met the comment with a look of embarrassment rather than laughter. “Sorry,” he said sincerely. “That sounds like a nightmare.”

“Yes, well, that’s also pretty much the last time most of them saw me until today, except Dung and Moody, I suppose, but I hardly left those encounters in a better state. A few months after that I left the country. After what happened to Frank and Alice, I don’t think anyone ever tried to organize a reunion again, anyway. Losing them like that, after the war was over, it was just too much.”

Sirius was quite for a while, face blank. Remus waited patiently.

“I remember when they brought them in, the ones that tortured them. You want to know something really fucked?” Sirius asked in a monotone. “I didn’t even care. I felt nothing. They were my friends, and I couldn’t even bring myself to spare some anger for what was done to them. I had so much anger, so much more than I could contain, but it was all for James and Lily and I couldn’t give up an ounce of it for anyone else.”

Remus smiled sadly at Sirius. “I read it in the papers. I was in Scotland the next day and didn’t step foot in England again for about eight years. They really tried to look out for me in the beginning and I didn’t even visit them in hospital until a couple of years ago.” A beat. “I don’t even know if they knew who I was.”

They were both silent, staring down at the table. The air hung heavy and still in the dimly lit room.

“So, you want to know what I did when I escaped?” Sirius asked quietly, breaking the silence. Remus looked up at him and nodded. “I went to our old flat.”

Remus’ eyes widened. “Why in the world would you risk going into the city?” To property owned under his own name, no less. It would be one of the first places they would have looked. He had to fight down the sharp shot of panic, reminding himself that the event had already happened and Sirius made it out.

“I wasn’t exactly thinking clearly,” said Sirius sheepishly. “I didn’t know what else to do and I thought… maybe there was a chance.”

“A chance?” queried Remus.

“That you might be there.” Remus raised his eyebrows in surprise. That was not the answer he had been expecting. “I know it doesn’t make any sense,” Sirius rushed to explain. “But everything was mixed up and it was the last place you’d lived that I knew about. I think in my head it was like… time froze. If I really thought about it, I understood that everything had changed, but it all happened without me seeing or hearing about it. Part of me expected to get out and find my whole life right where I left it, including you.”

“What were you planning to do if you found me?” asked Remus softly.

Sirius sat back in his chair, rubbing his chin with one hand. “I would have told you the truth. Then, if you believed me, I would have asked if you wanted to help commit a murder,” he said, quirking an eyebrow. “By the time I realized you were at Hogwarts it was all a moot point anyway. I couldn’t risk you turning me in.”

Remus turned this revelation over in his mind. “At the time, I kept telling myself that if I saw you, I wouldn’t hesitate. That I could do what needed to be done to protect Harry.”

“And now? What would you have done?”

“There was just too much that never made sense. I think I would have risked almost anything for an explanation," he said honestly, still not quite able to shake the stab of guilt he felt for so many years for never fully condemning Sirius, deep down in the part of him that could never accept he was a traitor. The same part of him that kept his Animagus status a secret.

Sirius smirked. “And the murder part?”

“I think I demonstrated in the Shrieking Shack that I don’t have an issue with that,” deadpanned Remus.

There was a beat of silence before both of them laughed lightly, a grin spreading out across Remus’ face. 

“Well, I hope that was worth it because you’ve reached your story quota for the week. Too bad, really. The incident Moody was referring to earlier was really much more exciting. I would have traded for that, if I were you,” Remus joked.

“No!,” Sirius exclaimed, slapping his palm on the table. “I got so distracted by what Dung said that I completely forgot! Come on, Moony, you can’t do this to me. Tell me what happened,” Sirius demanded.

“Now that I know I can trade for it you think I’m just giving this shit away for free? You’ve set a precedent Pads. It’s your own fault.”

“Fine, I’ll tell you about-”

“Doesn’t matter now. I’ve hit my limit for humiliating visits down memory lane tonight. Besides, I’ve got to go to bed. I’ll come over before my first guard shift at the Department of Mysteries and you can ask me then,” said Remus, pushing his chair back and standing up.

Sirius went quiet again, not moving to stand. Remus looked down at him, suddenly uncomfortable as Sirius just stared down at the table.

He wasn’t oblivious. He’d picked up on the way Sirius’ mood shifted every time he mentioned going home. Still, he never said anything. He never asked Remus to stay. Of course he didn’t. It only made sense. Remus had a home. It’s not like he wouldn’t be in headquarters regularly anyway. What were they supposed to do? Just live together until the war was over? Until Sirius’ name was cleared?

It wouldn’t help either of them jump headfirst into co-dependency just because Sirius was afraid of being alone. They had done that before. Remus very much wanted them to stay friends and maybe a little bit of distance would make that easier.

“Goodnight,” he said before heading towards the stairs.

Sirius made no move to follow.


	12. Such Sweet Sorrow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remus looks as sick as he feels and people keep commenting on it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you're all having a nice week :)

“Remus, dear, I’ve already made a plate for you,” chirped Molly happily as he slunk into the kitchen.

He winced slightly at the smell of the sausages she’d fried up, feeling his stomach turn. Still, he knew he’d regret it later if he didn’t eat something. He opened his mouth to thank Molly and wish her a good morning but was stopped by an unexpected voice and a flash of bubble gum pink hair in the corner of his eye.

“Wotcher, Remus!” called out Tonks from the far end of the table, causing Remus to jump.

“Tonks, why are you here?” he asked perhaps a bit sharply, rubbing at his forehead in a futile effort to stave off a headache.

“Good to see you too, mate,” she snarked.

“Sorry, that’s not what I meant,” he clarified, softening his tone. “I just wasn’t expecting to see you. Is something wrong?” he asked as he grabbed his plate of food, thanking Molly as he did.

Tonks looked a little embarrassed as Molly chimed in on her behalf. “Poor girl forgot her bag after last night’s meeting and needed to get it before work. I insisted she have breakfast before she goes.”

“Thanks again, Molly,” she said sheepishly.

“Will Sirius be coming down? He’ll want to say goodbye before you go home, surely.” Molly asked.

Remus felt another wave of nausea rising up. “I’m not sure. Best just leave him be for now. No doubt he needs the sleep. I’ll make sure I catch him before I head off.”

“Well, if you see him first, let him know I’ve put a plate aside. I’ll give you half an hour before I get the kids up so you can have a moments peace and quiet,” she said with a sympathetic smile that told Remus he must look exactly as awful as he felt.

She made her way upstairs, leaving him to pick at his rather generously portioned plate of food across from Tonks, who was happily chowing down.

“What’s up your ass, then?” asked Tonks abruptly.

Remus raised his eyebrows at her. “I don’t know what you mean,” he said nonchalantly.

“Every time I see you, you’re all sulky. What’s your deal?” she asked, and the inquiry that would sound hostile from most other people somehow seemed friendly coming from her.

“All both times you’ve seen me, you mean?” 

“Yeah, exactly. That’s first and second impression. I’m just saying, you could try being a little more cheerful,” she teased.

“Thank you for the critique, Nymphadora,” he said dryly, remembering the way she winced when Moody introduced her by her full name. He got exactly the desired effect.

“ _Don’t_ call me Nymphadora. It’s Tonks,” she insisted, cringing dramatically.

“Oh, I just assumed we were on a first name basis given how comfortable you are dolling out advice,” he said, picking up the tea Molly had left on the table and taking a sip.

Tonks grinned. “Alright, alright. Fair cop. You can get away with it just this once, then,” she said with a wink.

Remus cracked a smile at that. “And suddenly the family resemblance between you and Sirius becomes blindingly clear.”

“Is he witty, charming, and wildly attractive too, then?” she joked, flicking her hair back as if posing for a photograph.

“Pretty much,” he said with a small smile.

“Oh crap!” she yelled, glancing down at her watch. “Gotta run, but I’ll catch you later,” she said, grabbing the last half sausage and eating it in one bite as she rose to her feet. When she looked at Remus again she paused. “Really though, feel better. I remember thinking last night when I was heading home, ‘hey, nearly a full moon,’ so, you know,” she said with a look of understanding and a small shrug to indicate no hard feelings.

Usually, Remus found unsolicited comment on his condition, let alone sympathy, to be condescending at best. From Tonks, though, he didn’t feel pitied and he found he wasn’t bothered. He shrugged back at her as if to say, ‘It is what it is,’ and offered a half smile to reassure her he was fine. She seemed to get it.

She made her way to the foot of the stairs before swearing loudly and turning back to grab her bag that she had once again left on the floor beside her chair. Remus was already holding it out to her by the time she noticed. She grabbed it with a sheepish thanks.

“Catch you later, mopey,” she called back as she dashed up the stairs out of site.

Remus was still smiling a little as he continued to force down the unfortunately greasy meal. It wasn’t often he made friends these days, but he was pleased to have one less person at future meetings that he actively wanted to avoid.

When he heard the sounds of footsteps and muffled chatter coming from upstairs, he decided it was time to finish. He cleaned his plate and vanished the remaining food before Molly could come down and see how little he’d managed to eat. 

He made his way upstairs just as a gaggle of grumpy redheads were making their way down, herded by an equally grumpy looking Molly. He offered an appropriately low key ‘good morning’ and got a couple mumbled responses in kind along with at least one completely wordless groan.

“You’d think I was marching them to the gallows,” complained Molly as she walked by, causing Remus to have to choke back a laugh.

“Try it with an entire school,” Remus deadpanned quietly, earning a smile from Molly.

He made his way up to the bedroom he had been occupying and double checked his possessions, meager as they were. He paused briefly at the landing and stared at Sirius’ door. Still closed. He stepped towards it, raising his hand to knock. He held it a moment, then a sigh, hand lowered. He went to his room. 

Everything was neatly folded in a duffel bag, ready to go. After a final sweep of the room he assured himself there was nothing left behind. Only one thing left to do before he departed. 

He wasn’t entirely sure why it was so very difficult for him to do it. Sirius would be okay. It’s not like he was leaving him alone. It’s not like he was really leaving him at all. He would be back regularly. So why were his palms tingling? Why did a shiver run down his spine as he knocked on the door?

No answer. 

Another knock, louder this time.

Remus sighed. He wasn’t going to part on a sour note. Sirius would just have to put up with it. Remus lowered his hand to the doorknob and turned it. Unlocked. He obviously wasn’t trying too hard to keep people away. He pushed it open and entered. 

It was empty.

Remus’ eyes drifted downwards to the floor. If Sirius wasn’t here, Remus figured there was only one other place in the house he was likely to hide out. He cursed silently at having ascended four flights when he had only needed three. His knees ached in protest as he made his way out of the room and down to Mrs Black’s former abode, now the sanctuary that housed a fugitive hippogriff.

Remus knocked on the door even as he was opening it. He stepped in and closed it behind him.

Sirius was curled up beside a sleeping Buckbeak, only it wasn’t his human form who lay there not acknowledging Remus’ presence in the room.

Great. It was one of _those_ moods.

Sirius had always had a tendency to use his Animagus form when he was under stress, ever since he first developed the ability. It wasn’t the worst of his coping mechanisms by a long shot, but Remus was a little concerned by how much more he relied on it now than he had before.

Sometimes it was as if he was no longer comfortable being human.

“I’m heading out,” said Remus, leaning against the door frame. “I’ll be over in a few days. After the moon.”

The big, black dog just curled up tighter.

“Do you want anything? New clothes? Certain foods? I can bring some supplies when I return. You must be sick of having to raid your father’s wardrobe.” 

No response. Remus stepped further into the room. He moved over to the wall closest to where Sirius lay. He sat down, leaning back against it, knees pulled up in front of him. Chest tightening as he stared at the pathetic looking creature in front of him. “I don’t know what to do here, Pads,” he said softly. “I can stay another week. There’s so much that still needs to be done around the house. Mrs Cooper can keep the chickens a while longer, I’m sure.”

Remus jerked back as the dog transformed without warning. In a moment Sirius was sat in front of him, a stony glare fixed in his direction.

“Don’t give me that condescending shit. I don’t need to be looked after like some wounded little creature. I never asked you to stay,” spat Sirius.

“Do you want me to?” asked Remus calmly.

“What, you think I want to trap you in here with me? I wouldn’t be here if I had a choice and you’d be fucking insane if you didn’t want to get out. I know how to be alone, Remus. I’m a fucking expert at it. Just go and leave me be!”

“You’re not alone. Even if I go, there’s a whole house full of people. Order members coming and going at all hours. I’ll be over all the time.”

“I’d rather be alone,” Sirius said coldly.

“And I’d rather you not hate me.”

Sirius forehead creased as he tilted his head to the side, staring Remus down. He leaned towards him, the combativeness thoroughly disrupted by confusion.

“What the fuck are you on about?” demanded Sirius.

Remus folded his arms over his chest. “Do you really want me to stay, or do you just not want me to go? Last time we lived together it ended with you kicking me out, and with good reason. Even before that, you could barley stand me most of the time.”

Sirius blinked hard a few times. He shook his head. “We aren’t- nothing’s the same as it used to be. We’re not the same.”

“I am.”

“Don’t be daft. You’re so different I barley recognize you sometimes,” said Sirius almost sadly.

“In a lot of ways that’s true, I suppose, but it takes work. I still have to check myself constantly. Every day. It’s so easy to look to things outside myself for what I should be getting from within. The drugs are a part of that, but it's not the whole story. The way I used to need you, it wasn’t good. You were right to want out,” said Remus frankly, dead calm even as he felt his nausea peaking. “It wasn’t just you, either. I did the same thing to all the others to varying degrees. And I’m not saying history is doomed to repeat itself. I'm more in control than I was. But neither of us exactly have thriving social lives. The war hardly grants us stability. I want us to be friends because we want to be, not because we’re too afraid to be apart. I just… don’t want you to hate me.”

Sirius sat quietly a while, staring down at the floor. He stroked a hand absently through Buckbeak’s feathers. The great creature stirred momentarily before settling again. “You’ve thought about this a lot,” he said eventually.

“I had to. You can’t change what you can't see.”

“I never hated you.”

Remus raised an eyebrow skeptically. Sirius sighed.

“Yeah, alright. But I loved you more than I hated you.”

“I know.”

“Did you ever hate me?”

“Not even for a second,” he admitted quietly.

“Then why did you hurt me like that?” asked Sirius, and for the first time it really clicked for Remus that in Sirius' mind, he had done what he did out of anger, because of course he would think that. Because that's why Sirius hurt people.

“Because I hated myself more than I loved you.”

Sirius ran his hands through his hair. He stared down at the ground and Remus wondered if he’d been too honest. If he should have just left it all alone. Stayed anyway, whether Sirius asked him to or not.

Sirius took a deep breath, leaning back against Buckbeak and relaxing his posture. “You look like shit today, by the way."

“That seems to be the consensus, yes,” replied Remus dryly.

“Well, you should probably go get some rest. You’ll be more comfortable in your own bed, I imagine.”

Remus smiled softly. “I got word this morning that I have my first guard shift on Friday. I’ll come for dinner beforehand. You’ll barely be rid of me.”


	13. Diversions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remus and Dumbledore have a chat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It seems people are really eager to here that Moody story haha. Don't worry, it's coming! In the meantime, enjoy a second chapter for this week because I've been doing a lot of writing and want to make up for how few chapters I've posted int he last 2 months or so!  
> Thank you all, as always, for your comments and continued readership!

Remus could already hear the chatter drifting up from the kitchen as soon as he stepped into the entrance hall. There seemed to be something of a gathering in Grimmauld Place. He could make out the various Weasley children shouting over each other, a tone of excitement. 

He made his way to the stairs leading down to the basement kitchen from where the noise was coming, but he had barely made it a few steps when he caught the sound of two deeper voices ascending the stairs. 

Remus came face to face with Dumbledore and Arthur Weasley as they made their way towards the front door. Arthur jumped a little at seeing Remus. Dumbledore simply paused whatever he had been saying and smiled pleasantly

“Remus!” exclaimed Arthur. “Molly mentioned you were coming round for dinner! Sirius and the others are all downstairs along with an unexpected guest,” he said jovially.

“Oh?” 

“Our son Bill got into England a few days early and decided to surprise us. Dumbledore was kind enough to drop by and welcome him. You can imagine Molly was thrilled that he let Dumbledore know he was coming but not her” Arthur chuckled. "He's eager to do his part for the cause, that one."

“Well, he wouldn’t be one of your kids if he didn’t cause at least a little trouble, would he?” joked Remus, to which Arthur nodded fondly.

“Remus,” said Dumbledore, “I have to say, this is very fortuitous. I have been hoping to speak with you, if you would grant me a moment of your time,” he said, gesturing in the direction of the drawing room just off the front door.

Remus' stomach dropped. He sounded friendly as ever, but something in his gaze told Remus he wasn’t going to like whatever Dumbledore had to say. “Of course, Albus,” he responded politely.

“Alright, well, I’ll leave you to it, then,” said Arthur, apparently unable to feel the same thickness in the air that Remus feared he might choke on. He clapped Remus on the back. “See you at dinner.”

Arthur moved to walk away, but Remus snapped out of it just in time to stop him. He held up a hand to Dumbledore to indicate he would only be a moment, then placed a hand Arthur’s upper arm gently and guided him a few steps away. 

He spoke softly. Dumbledore was gracious enough to take of his glasses and examine them before cleaning them on his robes, giving some illusion of privacy.

“How has Sirius been?” asked Remus in what he thought was a pretty good imitation of a casual tone.

Arthur looked at him a little too knowingly. “He’s fine, Remus. Not always the most cheerful fellow I’ve ever met, but he’s down there now joking with the kids. Don’t tell Molly, but,” Arthur lowered his voice, “I think he’s been giving Fred and George some advice on those… those gags they’ve been concocting. Although…” he trailed off, suddenly hesitant.

“Arthur, tell me,” insisted Remus anxiously.

“Well, it wasn’t a big deal, really. I just went down to get a glass of water when I woke up in the wee hours the other night and ran into Sirius in the kitchen. He seemed to be a few glasses into a bottle of fancy wine his parents apparently secreted away long ago. It’s not really an issue. All the kids were in bed and he’s an adult in his own home. Still, something just seemed a little,” he paused, searching for the right word, “off, I suppose. I don’t really know him all that well, so it could have been nothing.”

Remus nodded, clenching his jaw. “Thanks Arthur. I’d prefer if you don’t mention to him I asked, if you don’t mind,” he requested sheepishly

“Don’t worry about it,” Arthur assured him. “He’ll be very happy to see you,” he finished with another uncomfortably knowing look accompanied by a cheerful smile and a wink. 

He clapped Remus on the shoulder before heading off downstairs. Remus opened his mouth to speak but the butterflies flittering around his insides distracted him from finding any meaningful rebuttal. He cleared his throat awkwardly and turned to Dumbledore, who was peering over his now polished glasses with a look of amusement.

Remus shook his head. “I don’t want to hear a word about it,” he said, flushing as he strolled past Dumbledore into the drawing room. 

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” said Dumbledore, following close behind.

As Remus sat across from Dumbledore, he noted absently that his hands felt slightly numb. His heart beat hard in his chest. He had been waiting for a little aside like this since the Order re-formed. He figured it was only a matter of time, but he had been hoping it wouldn’t come up quite so soon.

“Remus-” 

“No, ” he interrupted firmly. Dumbledore peered at Remus over the rim of his glasses. Remus tried not to squirm. “Sorry,” he muttered, kicking himself for how much he sounded like a nervous child. 

It was daft. They had worked together. Dumbledore was a colleague. He just couldn’t get it out of his head. He was still a teenager the last time Dumbledore had sat him down for this conversation, and in that moment he very much felt like he was again.

“I only ask that you indulge me, please, before making any decisions,” requested Dumbledore with excruciating patience. Remus hesitated but eventually nodded. “Fenrir Greyback has gained a lot of support in the years since the war. The packs are more organized than they have ever been and we have reason to believe that Voldemort is already making plans to utilize this fact. I know you want no part of it, but one thing hasn’t changed. You’re still the only person in this organization with ties to those communities. There is nobody else who I can ask to do this, ” he reasoned.

“I couldn’t go undercover even if I wanted to. Maybe when I was twenty I could convince them that my past was out of my hands, but I’ve lived amongst wizards for too long. Nobody is going to believe that it wasn’t by choice. They’ll spot me from a mile away,” he said, beginning to feel more self-assured as he explained his very valid reasons for his swift denial of this request. “It would take far too long to build any sort of trust. Even if that wasn’t the case, I can’t. I won't. It’s taken too long to get to this point. You know what those places are like. I’m better but I’m not-” his voice cracked. He collected himself quickly. “I’m not taking that kind of risk when I’ve only just got some part of my life back. I’ll be no use to you or anyone else if I go down that road again.”

“I agree.”

“You- then why are we having this conversation?” asked Remus a bit sharper than he intended.

“I’m not asking you to go undercover. It’s far too dangerous for all the reasons you have so eloquently stated,” said Dumbledore calmly. “What I am hoping, however, is that you would consider taking on a role as a sort of emissary. There are several key pack leaders who I hope to reach out to directly. Things are moving fast and we don’t have the time to delay action. I believe my efforts would go smoother if you were to be the point of contact, and to be present at these meetings. You’re familiar with the culture, the social structures. You have previously established relationships with a number of these pack leaders. I wouldn’t put you in this position if I didn’t believe you could handle it,” Dumbledore assured him.

Remus pushed down the warm glow he felt at the confidence Dumbledore seemed to have in him. He tried to ignore that part of him that wanted nothing more than to please the man. To prove his usefulness.

“I’ll have to think about it,” he said eventually.

“Of course,” Dumbledore replied, satisfied with the small progress.

“If we do this, we do it on neutral ground. I don’t want to go into those places. It’s been a long time but there are likely at least a few lycanthropes still out there who would kill me if they recognized me. Especially once they learned of my past deceit,” he said with a grimace.

More than one of those missions had come to violent ends. He ignored those images as they flashed behind his eyes.

“Naturally.”

“I’m telling Sirius about this, if that matters to you. I will not keep him out of the loop. Not about this or anything else. Not this time.”

“I expected as much.”

Remus hadn’t realized he was bouncing his knee up and down rapidly. He forced himself to stop. He slowed his breathing, wondering where to go from there. He was just about to stand up and wish Dumbledore a good evening but was stopped short.

“How are you doing, Remus?” asked Dumbledore, dropping the formality in favor of a friendlier tone that put Remus slightly more at ease.

“As well as can be expected, given the circumstances,” he said vaguely. 

“You will let me know if you need any additional support, won’t you?” asked Dumbledore kindly.

Remus rubbed his left forearm unconsciously. When he realized what he was doing he folded his hands in his lap. “I know where to go if I need that kind of help,” he said quietly, never fully able to shake the discomfort of having these conversations with Dumbledore even though he’d done it so many times now. Even though a part of him actually really appreciated that someone who knew his history was keeping an eye out.

Dumbledore nodded, standing up and straightening his purple, velvet robes. Remus stood too. Before Dumbledore had the chance to offer parting words, Remus spoke, tilting his head, hands in his pockets.

“What about you, Albus?” he asked. “How are you holding up?”

Dumbledore almost looked surprised to be asked such a question. It was a moment before he answered, but when he did, he sounded quite touched.

“I’m rather looking froward to the school year commencing, now that you mention it. It has all been rather stressful, as you can imagine,” he said evenly. “There’s nothing like the interpersonal drama of teenagers to put ones problems into perspective,” he said affectionately.

Remus laughed. “Thankfully we’ve got plenty of that around here,” he quipped, heading towards the entrance alongside Dumbledore.

“Yes, I understand Miss Granger will be joining the household on Monday.”

“Oh, I didn’t realize. Keeping those kids out of Order business is going to get exponentially harder once they have her brain added to the mix,” he said as they reached the door.

Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled brightly at the thought.

“Good luck with guard duty tonight. Please do think about what we discussed,” he said, opening the door.

Remus nodded. Dumbledore was gone a moment later. The sound of laughter from downstairs reminded him why he had come here in the first place. He turned and made his way to the basement kitchen.


	14. Survival

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remus and Sirius meet Bill Weasley. Hijinks ensue and Remus loses a bet. The Moody story finally comes to light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In for a long chapter! Very long. Have I mentioned that I actually have very extensive headcanons for Bill Weasley specifically and I love him? Hope you enjoy!  
> Had a weird technical issue and had to repost this chapter. Idk what was up with that but here we are.

Bill Weasley sat at the head of the table, chair faced backwards with his legs slung over either side and his arms folded across the top, a picture of laid back charm. His younger siblings were gathered round like children around a campfire, hanging on every word as he regaled them with a tale of a particularly nasty incident on a Gringotts funded expedition in which he was employed as a curse breaker.

Molly was working away in the kitchen, stopping to add the occasional “Bill! There are children present,” every time he strayed into slightly too graphic territory, causing Ginny to stick her tongue out at her mother as soon as she turned her back again.

Arthur was grinning widely as he laid out the table setting. Remus was pleased at the sight. Things had been rather tense between the Weasley's, with regular rows between Molly and the twins. Remus had made the unfortunate mistake of asking after Percy the day after they arrived. It was Ginny who explained the situation to him when Molly left the room crying. It's no wonder everyone was so excited to have the oldest child back home.

Nobody but Sirius even seemed to notice as he entered the room, too wrapped up in Bill's story to care.

Sirius was leaning against the back wall, watching them all from a distance, looking thoroughly entertained. He glanced up as Remus descended the stairs. Sirius’ eyes followed him as he approached, leaning against the spot on the wall right next to him.

He leaned in a little closer to Remus, speaking softly. “Arthur said you spoke with Dumbledore,” he stated, the demand for an explanation implicit.

“I’ll tell you about it later,” Remus promised.

Sirius nodded, turning his eyes back to the commotion of the room. “He’s not what I was expecting, I’ll admit,” he said in reference to Bill.

“No, look at his outfit,” Remus agreed. “And the piercings. Molly runs a bit conservative, I think. Given the way she sings his praises, I assumed he would be a little more traditional. More like his brother, Percy.”

Sirius smirked. “You should have seen the way she came at his hair when he arrived. I bet you he has a tattoo somewhere she can’t see.”

“Wizard kind or muggle kind?”

“Muggle,” he said, tilting his head. “Seems the adventurous type.”

“No way. He’s still from a wizard family, works in a wizarding industry. Look at his shirt, that’s a wizard band. I’ll bet for all his adventure, he doesn’t know a thing about muggles,” said Remus, crossing his arms and surveying the newcomer.

“Didn’t stop me,” Sirius pointed out.

“Sure, but you had a family worth rebelling against. Really motivated you to go that extra mile,” Remus joked. "Plus, you had friends to introduce you to muggle things."

"That's true. Where would I be without Lily showing me how telephones work or you getting me to try cocaine," he teased, making sure to keep his voice low.

"Shut it, posh boy. You'd still think The Broomstick Boys are the height of music if it wasn't for me."

“Bet you ten galleons he’s got a muggle tattoo,” Sirius wagered, side eyeing Remus.

“You’re on.”

It was at approximately that moment that Molly's head whipped around in their direction, finally noticing that Sirius was no longer standing alone. She set down her wand that was currently being used to slice tomatoes and wiped her hands on her apron.

“Remus!” she called out, striding towards him, causing the rest of the room to turn their attention to him as well. “Good to see you! Come on,” she said, reaching him and grabbing his arm. “Come meet Bill, my eldest, who decided to drop in on us unexpectedly,” she said, dragging him to the other end of the room.

Remus glanced back over his shoulder at Sirius helplessly, who watched on with silent amusement.

“Remus, this is Bill,” exclaimed Molly excitedly as she parked Remus directly in front of her son.

“Yes, Molly, thank you,” said Remus, gently extracting his arm from her grip as the kids all sniggered.

“I’m Bill, in case you missed it,” said the young man breezily, holding out his hand.

Remus reached out and shook it. “Remus Lupin,” he replied.

Bill gave him a sort of funny look as he released his hand. “Have we met before?” he asked, eyes narrowed.

“I don’t think so,” Remus replied, confused.

“Maybe it’s just because these guys have all sung your praises so much, but I feel like I recognize you,” he insisted.

Ron groaned loudly, once again embarrassed by a family member outing him as having said nice things about a teacher, even as Remus felt a soft glow at the affirmation. “Bill, stop being weird,” Ron whined. “Lupin’s got enough problems already without you being a git the second you meet him.”

“Thank you, Ron, that was impressively insulting to everyone involved,” said Remus with a polite smile, prompting a laugh from both Bill and Sirius at the same time that Fred whacked Ron on the back of the head.

“Just because you’re embarrassed to be alive doesn’t mean everyone else has to be,” snarked George.

“Can you boys all behave yourselves for once in your lives!” Molly snapped.

The back and forth continued, with all the siblings talking over each other. Remus pretended not to notice Ginny, who had spent the entire conversation very quietly trying to position a piece of chewed up gum so that it would tangle in Ron’s hair and using the arguing to her advantage.

Bill glanced up at Remus and gave a small, exasperated sigh that nobody else seemed to notice. Remus smiled.

“Good to be home?” he asked over the noise.

“Bloody wonderful, but ask me again in a week,” he deadpanned.

Dinner continued on in much the same fashion, with Sirius asking increasingly unsubtle questions about Bill’s fashion and lifestyle choices whenever his parents’ attention was directed elsewhere.

“So, Bill, interesting earing. I used to have quite a few myself before they confiscated anything that could remotely be considered a sharp object when I went to prison,” he said, and Remus rolled his eyes knowing full well that Sirius was only mentioning Azkaban so Bill would feel obligated to indulge him. “Where did you get that done?”

Bill smiled, completely unphased by the bizarre method of inquiry. “A friend of mine in Egypt did it when we were drinking at her place one night.”

“A muggle friend?”

“No, witch.”

“Any others?” asked Sirius with a raised brow.

Bill glanced from side to side, making sure nobody was listening to them, then leaned in close to Remus and Sirius. “Not anymore, but there was a month or so about two years ago when I…” and he glanced down at his chest pointedly, then back up with a sly smile. "It was a dare."

Remus had to cover his mouth to silence the sputter as he half inhaled a bit of food, while Sirius looked positively delighted.

He was so relieved to see Sirius in such good spirits. He was coherent. Grounded. Social. Perhaps his midnight binge was really no big deal. Perhaps Remus had nothing to worry about. It was a nice thought, anyway, so he held onto it through the evening.

They didn’t manage to find out one way or another about the tattoo. It was difficult to keep his attention for long as his family continued to demand his time, asking endless questions about his travels and his plans now that he was back. He didn't seem to mind the attention. What they did discover was that they both very much enjoyed Bill’s company. It would be difficult not to. He was very charismatic. Remus could see why his younger siblings seemed to look up to him so much.

Eventually the evening wore on and everyone began to excuse themselves, heading off to their own rooms. Bill hugged each of his little siblings before they went to bed, promising to see them soon, ignoring when they resisted his affection.

“Arthur and I will be heading to bed. I’ve been up since six, cleaning all day with only the barest minimum of help,” said Molly.

Sirius rolled his eyes. “It would be easier to help if we weren’t all being constantly chastised for doing it wrong. You’re going to have to have a little trust eventually, Molly.”

She narrowed he eyes at Sirius but bit back a retort as Arthur put a hand on her shoulder. Instead, she pulled Bill into an almost smothering hug, which Arthur quickly joined. The two said their goodnights and assured Bill they would be over the next day to help him set up his new flat, no matter how much he insisted he did not want that.

As soon as they were alone, Bill rounded on Remus with a sudden intensity.

“I’ve figured it out,” he declared. “I know how we know each other. I just didn’t want to say it in front of mum,” he explained.

“What do you mean?” asked Remus, suddenly incredibly nervous about what horrible thing he may have blacked out, trying to do the mental math to determine if it was even remotely possible that him and Bill could have been in the same country at the same time in the few years crossover between him graduating Hogwarts and Remus getting clean. Generally, when people remembered him but he did not remember them, the mystery was best left unsolved.

Sirius was staring at him, equally as confused.

“She gets weird when anyone brings up her brothers,” he said sadly. “You were at their funeral. I spoke to you.”

 _Oh_. Suddenly it all came flooding back to Remus. The little redheaded boy who looked after his mother while she was overcome with grief. He remembered.

“Gideon and Fabian,” said Sirius softly. “That’s right. I was there too. We knew them through the Order. They were good men.”

“Yeah, they were,” agreed Bill solemnly before turning back to Remus. “Man, I really thought you were a proper adult back then, but you must have still been a teenager at the time. I don't know how I feel about that," he said, shaking his head in mild disbelief. "I asked about your scars and instead of telling me to rack off for being a nosy little prick, you told me you got them from fighting dragons,” he smiled. “You were nice to me. I thought you were probably the coolest person I’d ever met for a long time, by the way.”

Remus felt himself blush as Sirius grinned at him. “Sorry that the truth is so disappointing,” he joked.

“Are you fucking kidding?” exclaimed Bill, apparently much more liberal with his language in the absence of his parents. “If you’d told me you were a werewolf working for a secret, underground organization that exists to fight evil forces I think my little kid brain would’ve exploded. Get a grip, dude,” he said indignantly.

“Yeah, dude,” echoed Sirius facetiously.

"I suppose when you put it like that..." Remus trailed off with a small smile, hands in his pockets.

“Alright,” said Bill standing up. “I have to go hide some things at my flat in preparation for my parents ‘help,’ so I’ll catch you guys later. Great meeting you,” he said with a two fingered half salute.

“Wait!” called out Sirius before he could quite make it out of the room, prompting Bill to turn and look at him expectantly. “Do you have any tattoos?”

Bill eyed Sirius up and down. “How much is my mum paying you to ask me this?” he said, only half joking.

“As if,” scoffed Sirius.

”What about you?” asked Bill skeptically.

Remus shook his head affectionately at the excitement that passed over Sirius' face as he removed his jacket. It was pretty much permanently cold inside Grimmauld Place, even in the summer, so Sirius’ layers kept him quite covered.

When he revealed his arms and loosened his shirt to show his collarbones, Bill looked on admiringly at the relatively extensive collection of tattoos that Sirius had accumulated, both muggle and magical. Remus bit back a joke about how few of them had been acquired while sober.

“Nice," said Bill, nodding his approval. “Alright, only fair, then,” he said as he lifted his T-shirt to reveal a passage of script on his ribs. “It’s an old Sanskrit spell, protection against curses.”

“Does it work?” asked Remus.

“Not at all,” he said, lowering his shirt. “Muggle spell, pseudo-magic stuff. Nice sentiment, though,” he said with a grin.

“Where’d you get it done?” asked Sirius pointedly.

“A muggle parlor in Pakistan that a friend of mine put me onto.”

“Is that so?” said Sirius smugly, side eyeing Remus. “It was good meeting you, Bill. We’ll let you get on, then.”

When Bill was finally gone, Sirius rounded on Remus with a self-satisfied smirk.

“You can gloat all you want, but I don’t have ten galleons,” said Remus flatly.

“Moony, I have all the riches of the Noble and Ancient House of Black. I don’t need your money,” said Sirius mischievously. “Don’t think I forgot about that thing with Moody. You tell me the story and all debts are forgiven.”

Remus groaned, burying his face his hands. “Fine,” he agreed reluctantly. “I need to be at the Ministry by midnight, but we have a little time.”

“Great,” exclaimed Sirius with a clap of his hands. He stood up, grimacing as he did. “Let’s go upstairs. These chairs are killing my back.”

“Sure thing, old man,” agreed Remus, earning a withering glare from Sirius.

A few minutes later, Sirius was sat on his bed, cross legged. Remus rested wearily on the beanbag at the other side of the room, feeling very much as if he had been transported directly back to the Seventies, tie dye fabric cover and all. Sirius clearly had an agenda when decorating his room as a teenager, but one certainly couldn’t accuse him of having taste. It was an absolute mess of aesthetics all chosen to be as obnoxious as possible.

“I still can’t believe he had that stupid tattoo,” griped Remus.

“I can’t believe he only had the one. He’s what? Twenty-five? And that’s all he’s got? Weak,” said Sirius dismissively.

Remus laughed. “Almost every single one of yours came about because you were drunk and, for someone so pathologically contrary, remarkably susceptible to peer pressure,” he said. “You only kept getting them because James would promise to get one with you and then back out last second! Most of those are just random shit you picked out of the books. And I know for a fact that you cried when you got your first muggle one.”

“Okay,” said Sirius, holding out his hands defensively. “I still can't believe he told you that. I was drunk! I just wasn't expecting it to hurt, alright. It's a perfectly normal response. And that’s not the point. The point is, Bill might be ‘cool’ or whatever, but he’s not-”

“As cool as you?” teased Remus.

“As- fuck off- as worldly as I think he thinks he is,” said Sirius pompously.

Remus looked incredulous. “I can't believe it. Pads, he’s you! He is another you. The clothes, the hair, using his charisma to soak in the adoration of everyone in the room? He is literally who you would have been if you had a different color palate and good parents,” laughed Remus.

Sirius opened his mouth to argue but all that came out was an indignant sputter. “That’s- I can’t believe- such an unfair comparison! I am much better looking! And with a better fashion sense,” he finished petulantly.

Remus looked him up and down, eyeing off the stuffy green waistcoat and ill fitting trousers. Sirius crossed his arms defensively. “This doesn’t count. It’s all I have in the house.”

“I told you, I can bring you more clothes. That’s not the point, anyway. Bill is both nicely dressed and undeniably good looking. Your jealousy can’t change reality, Pads,” Remus teased.

“Oh? So you find him attractive, then? That makes sense, he is your type,” he accused.

“Come off it. He’s a decade younger than me, first of all. Also, what, precisely, is my type?”

“Charismatic attention seekers with tattoos and long, flowing hair, obviously.”

“You make a fair point,” said Remus drolly. “Not to mention the youthful glow. I bet his back wasn’t aching when he stood up, either.”

“Low blow, Moony. Try sticking him in a stone cell for twelve years and see how well he keeps up with skin care and good posture,” he huffed.

“Don’t worry, Sirius, you’re still the prettiest girl at the ball,” deadpanned Remus.

“Thank you,” he replied haughtily. “Sometimes it’s just nice to hear it.”

When Sirius glanced back in his direction, they managed to hold eye contact for all of half a second before they both broke, toothy grins and a burst of laughter bubbling to the surface then quickly fading away. As the laughter eased into comfortable silence, Remus felt a warmth creeping into his chest.

It happened slowly, but Sirius really did look healthy now. Clean, well groomed, something closer to the man he used to be. His loose black curls were trimmed downto his shoulders and didn't contain a single strand of grey. His family legacy was hardly enviable, but he’d certainly lucked out in the genetics department. Everything he'd been through and he was still so handsome.

It was only when Sirius looked away, turning to fidget awkwardly with the bed sheets beside him, that Remus realized they’d both been staring for he couldn’t say how long. Somewhere in that time, the silence had ceased to be comfortable. Remus cleared his throat and looked away too.

“I know what you’re doing,” said Sirius abruptly.

“What?” asked Remus a little too quickly.

“You’re trying to stall. Run out the clock and distract me so you can leave before paying up,” he said playfully. “It’s not going to work, Remi. Now, if you don’t mind, I’ve been fucking dying to know what kind of trouble you could have possibly gotten yourself into that would involve Moody. It’s been killing me. You can’t imagine the scenarios I’ve been concocting.”

“Why don’t you tell me?”

“Nice try. Start talking.”

He stared at his friend in anticipation. There was no way Sirius was letting him escape it and Remus knew better than to try and fight him on the issue.

“Fine,” he sighed, “but I can tell by your face that you think this story is going to be particularly fun, and I’m telling you, you’re in for disappointment.”

“Whatever. Less preface, more story,” said Sirius, waving his hand to indicate Remus get to the point.

“You remember I said I came back to London a while before I moved out to the countryside?” Sirius nodded. “Well, as I said, I was in a bad way for a while there. Lost the job I’d lined up when I moved. Couldn’t pay rent. All the… all the usual business you expect from a lycanthrope, generally, let alone a career junkie,” he said with a small laugh.

As Remus spoke, he was deceptively casual. Almost flippant. He started to feel a bit like he might be dreaming and tried not to fall too deeply into the familiar numbness. He wrung his hands together, grounding himself in the sensation. It was just a story. No need to get lost in it.

“It was autumn, starting to get cold, so I wasn’t exactly keen to sleep rough. I’d been doing better before that. Hadn’t had to live that way for a while. I’d just turned thirty, you know. I felt like I should really be past that stage of my life. Just didn’t have it in me anymore, but I didn’t really have a lot of options. The only people I still knew in the city, or even the country, were people who I really couldn’t face at the time.”

He paused, taking a moment to gather his thoughts. By the look on Sirius’ face, he could tell he was starting to believe him that he wasn't in for a barrel of laughs.

“I know the feeling,” said Sirius sympathetically. “This is why when I fled the country I went somewhere warm.”

Remus found he felt a more at ease knowing that Sirius understood. Of course he did. He knew what it meant to be desperate better than almost anyone. He knew what it meant to survive at the cost of dignity. He took a slow breath before continuing.

“Yes, well, I knew a muggle man from a few years back who lived in London. He used to come to Amsterdam on business a lot when I was living there in my mid-twenties. I knew he had money to spare so I looked him up. He helped out a little, but not enough to get through more than a couple of nights. When we were talking, though, he mentioned that him and his family were going away for a while. I figured nice, empty townhouse in the middle of the city didn’t seem like a bad short-term option.”

“What, like housesitting or something?” asked Sirius, confused.

“No. Not like that.”

“Oh.” A beat. “ _Oh shit_.” Sirius shook his head disbelievingly. He almost looked impressed. “You broke in? Who are you?”

“Okay, you spent most of an entire year actively trying to, and succeeding in breaking into Hogwarts, so let’s dial down the shock,” huffed Remus.

“That’s different! I was trying to commit a vengeful murder. It was extreme circumstances. You were just out, like, living your normal life,” teased Sirius.

“Who’s telling this story, anyway?” bit back Remus, to which Sirius raised his hands in apology and indicated he continue. Remus cleared his throat again, rubbing a little at the back of his neck, “So, apparently something happened, and the family got back from vacation early. Didn’t take very well to finding me there. It was a whole thing, but Moody helped sort it all out,” he finished quickly, stopping as if the story was concluded.

“He-” Sirius tilted his head, squinting. “Hang on, why would Moody get involved in a muggle break and enter? Even Moody can’t just come onto a muggle investigation and ‘sort it out.’ I worked with the man for years. He would never interfere in non-wizarding business like that, not for anyone.”

Remus shifted uncomfortably. “There may have been a little magic involved in the incident.”

“Moony, what did you do?”

“It was dark when they came home,” said Remus reluctantly. “I was sleeping. Or, passed out might be more accurate. Being in London again was fucking with my head. Panic attacks, that sort of thing,” he said waving his hand dismissively. “I was out of it, then suddenly there were these strangers standing over me. Shouting. Someone grabbing me. I just… reacted.”

Sirius was perched on the edge of his bed, leaning forward, eyes wide. He let out a low whistle. “What was the damage?” he asked gravely.

“Stunned him. Wasn’t until he was down that I realized what was happening. I tried to revive him, but his wife was trying to wrestle the wand out of my hand. The… the kids were hysterical. The whole ordeal was a fucking mess. One of the neighbors must have called emergency. I got hauled into the police station. Next thing I know, Moody is there. I suppose, like he said, he was keeping tabs on people from the old days. He was already retired by then, but instead of getting an active Auror and charges, I got him.”

Sirius sat back, a look of awe. “I’m trying to picture his face and I tell you, Moony, I’m coming up blank. What did he even say to you? He must have flipped.”

_“If you needed a place to stay, lad, you know there are still people around who want to help,” Moody said in the best impression of gentleness he could manage._

“He said he took care of anything that could cause trouble with the Ministry but couldn’t do much about the police report since he was working in an unofficial capacity. They didn’t remember the wand, but they still remembered me being there.”

_“I know you didn’t mean to hurt anyone.”_

“Thankfully the guy decided to drop the whole thing.”

Sirius paused, squinting again. “Why would he do that? You reckon Moody put pressure on him?”

Remus grew even more flushed. He’d gone this far, he figured. How much worse could he really make himself look?

“I think he was scared I would tell his wife that we’d met before. How we knew each other.”

A look of comprehension flashed across Sirius' face, followed immediately by what could only be described as disappointment. Remus thought it should have been predictable that out of all the horrible things from that story, this would be the thing that bothers Sirius the most. Not the crime. Not the assault, however accidental it might have been. But this.

“He had kids, Remus. A family.”

_“You did good work in the old days. You’re better than this.”_

“Do you think I’m proud of this? If they had money, I wasn’t asking questions. I never would have said anything to his family. I think he really cared about them, you know. You shouldn't ask about my past if you don’t want to know these things. I’m more than happy not to talk about it.”

“You’re right. Sorry. It’s none of my business anyway.” Beat. “Was do you mean you ‘if they had money’?” he asked as if he only just registered the words.

_“I saw the needles, Lupin.”_

Remus pinched the bridge of his nose, cursing under his breath. He hadn’t meant to say that. He was so caught up in the story he didn’t even think about it. He never meant to let that slip. His mind sprinted through all the possible ways he could take the words back but there was nothing. Sirius wasn’t stupid. There was no way. His eyes were stinging.

Suddenly there were hands on his knees and Sirius’ voice right in front of him.

“Breath, Remi. It’s alright, just breath.”

He wished he’d just let himself dissociate when he felt it coming on earlier. He wished he was anywhere else. He knew what the world thought of people like him. People who lived the way he had lived. Everyone was going to know now. They would never look at him the same way again.

“Hey, I know you think I’m going to freak out or something but I’m not. Listen to me Remus, I’m not. You’re alright. Everything’s alright.”

_“You’ll kill yourself if you keep this up.”_

Remus nodded, still pinching his eyes shut. He took deep, slow breaths. It had been a while since he’d had to do this for any reason other than nightmares. Even those came less frequently than they used to. It rarely took this much work to get it under control. He focused on the feel of Sirius’ hands, which were now rested on his upper arms. He noted absently that this might be the first time Sirius had touched him since their initial reunion. He used to be so tactile with pretty much everyone, all the time. One more thing that Azkaban seemed to have taken from him.

“I’m fine,” said Remus eventually, lowering his hand from his face and cracking his eyes open.

Sirius was kneeling in front on him. He gave Remus a searching look, then nodded, dropping his hands down and moving back, sitting down on the floor.

“Sorry,” he said tightly.

“Don’t be,” said Sirius.

“Everything was just so fucked up back then, I kept losing jobs, I had to do something-”

“You don’t need to explain,” Sirius assured him gently. “I’ll listen if you want to talk, but you don’t need to justify yourself to me or anyone. You survived. You shouldn't be ashamed of that.”

_“You didn’t survive the war for this.”_

_“I didn’t survive the war at all.”_

Remus nodded again, swiping under his eyes with his sleeve. He folded his hands in his lap, staring down at them. He and Sirius were both silent. As Remus continued to stare, he began to process the numbers and hands on his watch face.

“Fuck!” he exclaimed, trying to stand up but struggling to unseat himself from the ridiculous beanbag.

“What’s wrong?” Sirius asked in alarm, already standing up and reaching a hand down to help Remus.

“I have to go,” he explained as he took Sirius’ hand and pulled himself up. “I need to be at the Ministry.”

“Fuck,” Sirius echoed. “Will you be okay?”

“I’ll be fine,” said Remus, already heading for the door.

“When will you be back?” Sirius called out after him.

Remus turned his head, stopped in the doorway. “I don’t know. Soon. I- I have to go now. Soon, I swear,” he said with a helpless shrug.

He didn’t was barley out the front door before disapparating. Of all the times to spend hours alone and alert with no distractions, an unfinished conversation he never wanted to have dragging heavy in his wake. It was going to be a long night.

**Author's Note:**

> All comments are super appreciated, no matter how small!


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